Dual to the Death
by Cazuuki
Summary: In an alternate reality where Seto Kaiba is Batman just about anything is possible.  Slight SetoxYugi.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

I'm only posting the first chapter to see what kind of response this is gonna get. In this story Yami and Yugi don't even know each other. Oh, and there's slight SetoxYugi in later chapters.

Tell me what you think. 3

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_Night._

_The sound of rapid footsteps on pavement._

_A man runs down a dark and twisting city street. His breathing is labored and his eyes are wide with panic._

_There is something very wrong about this street._

_At first, its two sides are mirror images of each other, building for building, lamp post for lamp post, a yawning doorway on one side matched by an open door on the other. But one side is a distorted image, a glimpse in a fun house mirror. Everything that is clean and normal on the right side is twisted and damaged on the left. Windows are cracked, streetlights shattered, refuse litters the sidewalks. Gleaming metal and freshly painted wood on the right are tarnished and peeling on the left._

_The man with the frightened eyes reaches the end of the divided street and stops, his breath coming in deep gasps. He looks around, his eyes searching the shadows. Then a voice comes, deep and rasping, from the darkness._

"_Ryoooou. Ryou Bakura…"_

"_No!" the man cries. He bolts around a corner and starts running again. "Keep away - leave me alone!" The two halves of the street are beginning to shift and melt as he pounds down the pavement between them. He rubs his knuckles against his eyes, staggering now rather than running as the distorted images merge into one another. The whole scene grows murky, receding into a swirling limbo just outside of his reach. He staggers on._

"_Where ya goin', Ryou?" asks the voice from the darkness. Ryou looks behind him in terror. Nothing. He turns back just in time to skid to a halt at the edge of a vast abyss yawning suddenly at his feet. Faint orange light flickers from somewhere far below. "You can't get away from me," the voice rasps._

_Ryou turns his head from left to right, chooses the right, and heads off along the chasm. Something steps from the darkness in front of him and he flails his arms, digging in his heels to avoid crashing into the tall, shadowy figure. "See what I mean?" the rough voice intones._

_Ryou gulps and takes a step back. His body is trembling uncontrollably. "S-stay away!" he cries. "I want no part of you!"_

"_That's very funny, Ryou." The figure extends a huge hand out of the dark mist. Something is shining in the center of its palm: a silver coin. The hand moves and the coin flips into the air with a high-pitched singing sound. "No!" Ryou cries, covering his ears. With a leering laugh, the figure takes a step closer and flips the coin again. The singing sound is louder this time. It seems to pierce Ryou's skull and vibrate inside his brain. "Stop it, I said!" Ryou cringes back from the sound, falling to his knees. "Stop it," he pleads._

_The figure approaches, a looming shape of shadows and menace. The silver coin sparkles in the orange dimness. "It's time…"_

"No!"

Gotham City district attorney Ryou Bakura snapped suddenly awake, his arms raised to cross protectively in front of his sweat-drenched face. He looked around in bewilderment. He was lying on his office couch, his body curled into a tight ball on the worn leather.

"It's time, Ryou," repeated Marik Ishtar. The young, slender man was bending over the couch with a look of concern on his tan features.

"Marik… it's you." Ryou swung his feet to the floor and straightened into a sitting position. He struggled to control his rapid breathing, his eyes darting around the dimly lit office. A flicker of orange light came through the window from the marquee of the theatre across the street.

His aide put a hand on the shoulder of Ryou's rumpled suit jacket. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, must have fallen asleep." Ryou rubbed his neck and straightened his tie. He managed a weak smile. "Whew - had a bad dream…"

"Well," Marik advised, "you better start waking up. Ishizu has been buzzing you for two minutes. She just heard from Yami Mason at the commissioner's office. They've started the raid."

Ryou's face lit up, the weird dream dissolving into the past. "Why didn't you say so?" He sprang to his feet with a fluid motion and grabbed his overcoat from the brass hook by the door. "Let's go!"

The night was overcast, high clouds just beginning to break up in the aftermath of the rain that had been falling for most of the day. The air was cool, the tangy smells of mid-autumn mixing with the acrid city odors. Puddles dotted the sidewalks and turned the potholes in the street into miniature lakes.

Red and blue lights flashed rhythmically as a half dozen slick black police cars formed a gleaming ring around an abandoned warehouse.

"Everything set?" Commissioner Mahado Gordon accepted the bullhorn from the hand of a uniformed officer. The woman nodded and slipped back to her position behind the barricade of vehicles. Halfway around the circle of cars, a young man with spiky tri-colored hair raised his hand, thumb and forefinger joined in an okay sign.

"All right, then." Mahado raised his bullhorn to his lips. "This is Police Commissioner Mahado." The words rang out above the background crackle of police radios. "We have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up and no one will get hurt." He lowered the bullhorn and squinted at the dilapidated structure.

"Stuff it, Mahado!" a hoarse voice shouted from the broken pane of a third floor window.

The commissioner turned as a slight commotion at his back signaled the arrival of the district attorney. Ryou Bakura had a look of pleased anticipation on his handsome face as he came to stand next to Mahado. "Nice speech," he said with a grin. He tipped his head toward the building. "So, how's it going?"

There was a small sound of breaking glass. Both men looked up as the metal snout of a weapon poked through the upstairs window. A second later a barrage of machine-gun fire from the warehouse sent everyone diving for cover. Mahado lifted his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he crouched next to Ryou. "Could be better," he observed.

"Sir." A young lieutenant hunkered down at their side. "Deputy Commissioner Mutou says the SWAT team's in place."

Mahado nodded. "All right. But wait for my order. It would be nice if we could manage this without anybody getting hurt."

Inside the abandoned building, two men worked feverishly to unload an unwieldy object from a large crate marked U.S. ARMY/DOMINO ARMORY.

"This oughtta blow a nice big hole in their little barricade," one of the hoodlums said as they freed the king-sized bazooka from its packing material.

"Yeah," his partner grunted, straining under the weight of the massive weapon. "Help me haul it up to the window."

"Hey, some of 'em are startin' to move around," said a third hood stationed by the broken window. "I think they're gettin' ready to rush the place."

Behind them, unnoticed in the shadows, a slender rope uncoiled from the high ceiling. A caped silhouette lowered itself silently to the floor.

"Ha - let 'em try," the second hook crowed. "There ain't nobody can get in here alive!"

The first thug hoisted the bazooka once his partner's shoulder, glancing behind him as the two began to carry it across the room. He froze.

"Uh… Valon…" He tapped the other man's arm.

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Mwhahaha! Cliffhanger, if you want more tell me. I've got most of the chapters already typed up so all you have to do is comment and I'll post them.

Cazuuki


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: I would like to thank Nightcrawlerlover for the awesome comment. I'm posting this chapter for you... because nobody else seems to be enjoying my story T.T

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"All units stand by," Mahado said into a handheld walkie-talkie. He scowled at the besieged warehouse. "Get ready, set -"

There was a loud crash of glass as a heavy metal chair came flying through one of the third story windows. A stocky man in a trench coat shot out through the window after the chair, his arms flailing.

"Hold it!" Mahado cried. "Underwood! Raptor! Get over there!"

The man landed with a _whump_ on a ragged red awning over the first floor entrance and slid slowly down the faded canvas. He grabbed the edge of the awning and hung dangling several feet above the pavement as a pair of startled officers scrambled to collect him.

Inside the building, screams mixed with the sounds of gunfire. "Hey - look out!" called a strangled voice from the third floor. "Jeez, it's _him_!" someone else yelled.

Ryou Bakura stared up in amazement at the warehouse. Thick gray smoke had begun to pour from the windows. "What's going on in there?" he asked Mahado.

The commissioner shrugged, a small grin forming. "Looks to me like they've got a bad case of bat infestation," he replied.

Voices were raised in the police ranks behind them. Mahado turned to see a young woman in a tan raincoat who was obviously trying to gain access to the inner ring of the barricade. She waved frantically at him over the heads of several officers who were attempting - without much success - to restrict her movement. The commissioner signaled to a nearby policewoman. "Tell them to let my daughter through," he said through clenched teeth. To Ryou he said, "Mana's got a stubborn streak in her a mile wide. If I don't let her in, we'll have to worry about being attacked on _two_ sides!" A moment later an attractive blond woman of nineteen or twenty made her way to his side and gave him a hug.

"I think you should break down and issue me a badge, Dad," Mana Gordon said matter-of-factly. "Some of your newer officers don't recognize me." She flashed a grin at Ryou. "Good evening, Mr. District Attorney. I see you need a police barricade these days to keep you safe from your adoring fans."

"Mana, what are you doing here?" Mahado glared down at his daughter. "This is no place -"

"To have dinner?" she finished. "I know, but this is where they told me I'd find you when I showed up at your office." She tugged at a khaki sleeve to show him her watch. "We had a date, remember?"

"Commissioner?" A young tri-haired man in a trench coat appeared at Mahado's side. He looked over at Mana in surprise. "Well, hello!"

"Hi, Yami. Maybe _you'd_ like to have dinner with me. Dad stood me up with some flimsy excuse about a raid or something."

"Sure - I mean - well, I'm sort of tied up myself." Deputy Commissioner Yami Mason looked unsure between Barbara and her father. "Are you sure this is a safe place for your daughter, sir?" He gave a worried glance at the building. Strange sounds continued to issue from the upper floors.

Mahado glowered at Mana. "Yami, when you've been a police brat as long as my daughter has, you tend to come and go as you please. Unfortunately, you also tend to add gray hairs to your father's head." He frowned sternly at Mana's smug smile. "Would you mind escorting this wayward child back to the relative safety of the city streets, Deputy Commissioner?"

"Not at all, sir," Yami replied with a grin.

"We'll discuss this later, young lady," Mahado called after his daughter. He turned back to Ryou with a grunt of exasperation. "I'm just thankful Mana's never shown any interest in following in her old man's footsteps," he said to the District Attorney. "Can you imagine the sleepless nights I'd have if she ever decided to go into law enforcement?"

Inside the building, the hoodlum known as Valon Cee lay on the rough wooden floor, his head swimming from a blow that had come out of nowhere to knock him flat. He raised his head and peered around the darkened, smoke-filled room. As he blinked dazedly, he saw a black-gloved arm with a fist at the end of it emerge suddenly from the middle of the smoky gloom, then dive in again with a sharp, cracking sound. One of Valon's confederates came flying out of the darkness, slammed against the wall a good fifteen feet away, and slid limply to the floor. Another thug had begun to creep toward the center of the room, rifle held at the ready, when a small object shaped like a black wing came whirring across the room and knocked the weapon from his grasp.

Valon noticed that their unwelcome guest was occupied, so he took the opportunity to get to his feet and tottered toward the window, his eyes on the bazooka propped against the broken sill. As he hoisted it to his shoulder and aimed down at the massed police officers, he heard a tiny creak from the floorboards behind him. Then something pushed down hard on the base of the bazooka, swinging the mouth of the weapon skyward. The bazooka fired with a thunderous boom, its round exploded harmlessly seconds later high in the sky. As Valon stared upward at the fireworks, he felt a tap on his shoulder, and strong hands gripped him from behind. Valon squirmed free with a panicked yelp and leaped through the window like a man escaping from a burning building. A pair of smiling officers was waiting for him under the awning. As they hustled him away, Valon looked up in time to see two more members of his gang come flying out the window. The building was silent for a few seconds, then the commotion started up again as the remainder of the thugs swarmed down the stairs and out the front entrance, hands held high. Shouts of "We give up!" and "Help us!" filled the night air as officers moved among the panicked mob with handcuffs.

Ryou Bakura addressed a small circle of reporters while a dozen crestfallen hoodlums were loaded into the waiting police wagons. "As your district attorney," he told the group, "I would like to officially commend Commissioner Mahado Gordon and his officers for their fine work."

Standing slightly behind Ryou, Mahado looked up at the caped figure who stood in black silhouette against the moon on the rooftop of the empty warehouse. "And thank _you_, old friend," the commissioner murmured under with a smile.

Not far from her father's side, Mana Gordon followed the commissioner's upward glance in time to see a dark figure blend into the shadows of the Domino skyline with a swirl of black cape. She gave a small nod, her eyes sparkling with fascination.

"Mr. Bakura." A reporter thrust her microphone under the DA's chin. "Is it true that you were primarily responsible for planning this raid?"

"Yes." Ryou gave a gracious nod. "And I'm delighted to say that another one of Rupert Dartz's criminal rings has now been broken." He gave the smile that had earned him the nickname "Radiant Ryou," as flashbulbs popped and the small crowd of onlookers erupted into spontaneous applause. Ryou resisted the urge to take a bow. "As I've frequently stated during my re-election campaign, I will not rest until Domino City has been 'de-Dartzed' once and for all," he concluded, the smile growing sardonic.

A final handcuffed hood was being ushered past Ryou on his way to the police wagon as the DA finished his remarks. "You talk big, pretty boy," Valon growled, "but you're gonna be laughing outta the other side of your mouth when Mr. Dartz gets through with you." Digging his toe deep into the mud, Valon flung a large clot of sodden earth in Ryou's direction, splattering the front of the DA's expensive suit. "Dartz eats creeps like you for a snack!" The other gang members waiting in the back of the police vehicle laughed and hooted their approval of Valon's performance.

"All right - that's enough out of you!" The police lieutenant escorting Valon collared the thug and hustled him off toward the police wagon.

Ryou Bakura stood frozen, his face rigid as a stone carving. Above the laughter of the hoodlums and the disapproving whispers of the onlookers, he heard a high-pitched singing sound. His hands trembled at his sides and he fought the urge to clap them over his ears. Then his handsome features contorted in an expression of pure rage. With a cry of fury, the district attorney launched himself up into the back of the police wagon, seized Valon by the lapels, and hurled him out onto the ground. The surprised hood hit the rain-soaked dirt with a thud and a grunt of pain. The DA towered over him.

"You little weasel!" Ryou bellowed, his voice guttural, rasping. "I'll tear you apart!" Flashbulbs popped and video cameras whirred as nearby officers tried to separate Ryou from the frightened crook. "Help!" Valon shouted. "Get 'im off! He's crazy - someone get 'im offa me!"

Ryou roared like a wild animal, grabbing the thug by the jacket and shaking him so hard that the lapels began to tear off in his fingers. "Kick mud in _my_ face, will you?"

Valon cowered under the onslaught. "Help!" he pleaded as more police joined in the attempt to pry the DA away from his prey. As Ryou raised his arm to aim a blow at the thug's face, a large hand grabbed his fist and restrained it in a viselike grip. "Ryou!"

The DA wheeled around with murder in his eyes and came face to face with Commissioner Mahado.

"Get hold of yourself, man!" the commissioner ordered in a steely voice.

"Mahado - I… uh…" The bestial light died slowly from Ryou's eyes. He looked around as if suddenly aware of the surrounding crowd. His face paled.

"Come on - you don't need this kind of publicity," Mahado told him in an urgent whisper.

On the sidelines, television reporter Vivian Wong shook her head in disgust. "Who does this guy think he is," she commented to her cameraman, "a one-man gangbuster?"

"That creep's a maniac!" the battered thug yelled as Mahado's officers escorted him back to the police wagon. "_He's_ the one who should be goin' to jail!"

The crowd buzzed with speculation, continuing to stare at Ryou as he looked around sheepishly. The color returned slowly to his face, and he reached up to straighten his tie. Mahado leaned in close. "What in the name of heaven did you think you were doing?" he asked.

"I - I don't know," Ryou answered. "I guess he just pressed the right button. Sorry, Mahado…" He drew in a shuddery breath and walked off toward his car as the commissioner frowned after him.

"That's one heckuva button," Mahado muttered under his breath.

High atop a nearby building, the caped figure watched with concern as the district attorney ducked into his car.

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Author Note: If you want this story to continue I'm gonna need some motivation... I'm not gonna continue until I get double the comments I got last time aka I need two comments. I really do love this story so I don't want to have to get rid of it, so please comment

Cazuuki Yoko


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Notes: I've met my quota of reviews for the 2nd chapter so I'm gonna go ahead and post this... it's not a very long chapter but it'll do for now. Also, I would like to thank tinkletimekelly and A Perplexing Puzzle for leaving me very encouraging comments and for their story alerts. They made me smile.

Now it's story time!

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Well, it was another wild night in east Domino," Vivian Wong announced on her nightly newscast. "Police intercepted an arms shipment which Attorney Ryou Bakura is trying to connect to reputed mob kingpin Rupert Dartz."

"Nice tie, boss," a thin man with protruding eyes commented as a photo of Dartz flashed on the screen behind the newswoman.

"Shut up." Dartz raised a hand to silence his flunkies. The crime boss sat deep in a plush sofa in the center of his lavish penthouse living room, his two-toned eyes intent on the widescreen TV. He was a thin man with sharp facial features, while expensive tailored garments clung loosely to his frame. Standing and sitting around him were half a dozen of his employees.

"Unfortunately, 'Radiant Ryou' earned a new nickname tonight - 'Raving Ryou' - when he flew into a rage and attacked one of the suspects." The TV showed footage of Ryou Bakura's encounter with the mud-slinging thug as Vivian's Wong's commentary continued.

"Get 'im off!" Valon cried from the screen. "He's _crazy_"

A strikingly attractive young woman with long blond hair leaned forward over the back of the sofa and smiled at the image of the berserk DA. "My!" she said with a toss of her hair. "This guy _is_ crazy!"

"Yeah, crazy like a fox," Dartz sneered. He grabbed the remote in his bony hand and turned down the volume. "That little temper tantrum has probably bought him another ten thousand voters."

"So, how about we see how far he can swim in a cement bathing suit?" one of the other flunkies suggested.

Dartz snorted. "And bring the heat down on us even more?" He heaved himself up out of the sofa and moved closer to the television, staring at the silent image of a beleaguered Ryou Bakura. "Uh-uh. I want this one in my back pocket, boys and girls. We need to dig up some dirt on our dashing DA. Something really juicy."

"I'm afraid that might be a problem." The light-haired woman fiddled with a strand of rose colored pearls. "Bakura's so clean, he squeaks."

"All men have something to hide, my dear Mai," Dartz corrected her in a gentle voice. "You know what they say: the brighter the picture, the darker the negative." He glared at the screen as an embarrassed Ryou stalked off camera into the shadows. "Just stay on his tail and keep your eyes and ears open. You might be surprised what you'll turn up."

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Author's Note: I hope you guys leave me more amazing comments because I love reading them and I will try my best to message back a thank you (unless they're to many... probably won't happen but... I can hope) and will thank you in the beginning by name at the beginning of each chapter. Does anyone actually read these thing?

Word Count:615


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

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Two days later, the October briskness had given way to the welcome interlude of Indian summer. Songbirds twittered in the trees on the outskirts of Domino City, while the carefully cultivated grounds of Kaiba Manor were festooned with balloons and banners under a sky of perfect robin's egg blue. Well-to-do men and women roamed the estate or clustered in small groups to discuss their candidate's prospects in the upcoming election. An elderly butler, ramrod straight in his immaculate uniform, moved tirelessly among the guests, dispensing endless appetizers from a series of silver trays.

District Attorney Bakura stood in the middle of it all, like a prince at the corner of his court, surrounded by a circle of important-looking individuals in business suits.

"We have to come down hard on these criminals if we want this city to be safe fro decent citizens again!" Ryou was telling his listeners as the butler wandered into earshot. The appreciative crowd nodded and murmured in agreement.

A few yards away, a tall dark-haired man stood next to a slender auburn-haired woman and watched Ryou hold forth. The butler approached and extended his bountiful tray. "Rumaki, Master Seto? Dim sum, Miss Wheeler?"

"Thanks, Roland." The tall man skewered appetizers on tiny toothpicks for himself and his companion.

"Seto Kaiba, you are the best friend Ryou ever had." The auburn-haired woman accepted the cocktail napkin from her host. "It was so nice of you to sponsor this fund-raiser for him."

"Well, you fiancé and I go way back. He's been a great DA - and an even greater friend." Seto frowned slightly as Ryou raised his voice pounding his fist into his palm to make a point. "Though recently he seems awfully… intense." He glanced down at his companion. "Is he all right, Serenity? That incident on TV the other night…"

Serenity Wheeler was watching her fiancé with a mixture of pride and concern. "I think the pressure of the campaign are starting to get to him, that's all."

"Yeah, I guess so." Seto dismissed it with a shrug. "Though he doesn't seem quite himself lately…"

The crowd around the DA was growing. A fur-clad woman wearing next month's fashions and yesterday's hairstyle put a gloved hand to her throat and she stared into Radiant Ryou's dark brown eyes.

"Mr. Bakura, I want you to know that I've voted for you _two_ times so far" she gushed.

"Well, ma'am, I'm very honored." Ryou dazzled her with his best movie star smile. "I just hope it was in two different elections."

"Oh, Mr. Bakura!" The woman rolled her eyes and blushed like a schoolgirl, while her friends giggled appreciatively.

"Mr. Bakura?" The voice came from the edge of the onlookers. "I have a question. When are you going to marry that gorgeous fiancé of yours?"

Ryou lifted his head and searched the ring of admirers. His smile broadened as Serenity made her way through the throng to stand by his side. She slipped her arm through his and squeezed his hand. The onlookers smiled and nodded their approval.

Seto Kaiba had followed Serenity to the center of the crowd. "Better set the date soon, Ry," joked the handsome millionaire, "or I just might steal her away myself."

Ryou hugged Serenity close to his side. "You do and I'll prosecute!" The crowd responded to the banter with delighted laughter.

A harried-looking Marik Ishtar approached from the direction of the mansion. He was carrying a sheaf of legal-looking documents in a manila file folder. His expression was grim.

"Mister Bakura, you better take a look at this," he said in a low voice. The DA raised his eyebrows and stepped away from the crowd with the other man.

"The judge just threw out the case against Dartz's men," Marik said somberly. He handed Ryou the folder.

"What? B-but why?" Harvey's expression went from shocked to bewildered as he scanned the documents. "How could-"

"The warrant wasn't complete. Some foul-up in the commissioner's office. The judge said he had no choice. He had to let them go."

"Had to? B-but…" Ryou's chin quivered like a disappointed child's. His face was flushed bright red. Slowly he raised a hand to his ear. He seemed to hear a metallic singing, a source less sound that grew louder and louder.

"_Noooo_!" Ryou bellowed. Turning savagely, he shoved Marik backward into a nearby buffet table. Food and dishes went flying everywhere. "I spent _three months_ on that raid!" His voice was thick and guttural. He spun around and kicked over a second table. A life-sized swan carved out of ice shattered on the ground. "He can't overturn the case, the fool! He's been bought, like all the rest!"

Seto had been watching in consternation from the edge of the crowd. He moved quickly to Ryou's side and laid a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Hey, take it easy! This kind of behavior doesn't go over well with the voters."

Ryou pulled away from his friend with a snarl. "Let go of me, you rich twit." He raised a fist to strike Seto when Serenity suddenly interposed herself between the two men, grabbing Ryou's hand in both of her own. "Ryou!"

Ryou's face drained of rage like a battery robbed of power. "Serenity… Seto…" His voice was losing its guttural edge. He blinked and rubbed the side of his face. "I'm sorry. I don't know what…" His eyes swept the shocked faces of the onlookers. "Excuse me." He turned on his heel and headed for the manor.

Seto and Serenity exchanged glances then headed hurriedly after Ryou, as the crowd's silent bewilderment began to dissolve into agitated whispers. Near the steps of the mansion, a light-haired woman in a wide brimmed hat turned to watch Ryou as he stalked past her, his friend and fiancé at his heels. Mai smiled, eyeing the DA speculatively above the rim of her punch glass. Maybe Dartz was right after all, she thought. She pursed her lips and sauntered casually up the steps to the large house.

Serenity and Seto caught up with Ryou in Seto's den. The DA was slumped in an overstuffed easy chair, his face in his hands. Serenity stood behind him and began to massage his neck and shoulders. Seto went to stand by the enormous fireplace on the other side of the room, watching his friend with an expression of deep concern.

Ryou rubbed his brow with his fingertips and lifted his face. He attempted a weak smile. "I just flew off the handle, that's all," he said. "Don't worry, I've got it under control."

Seto looked skeptical. "Ryou, you didn't just lose your temper out there. You were like another person."

"I said I was sorry," Ryou said brusquely. He reached back and covered Serenity's hands with his own. "It's over."

Seto left the fireplace and moved closer to the pair. "Ryou, the incident at the raid - and now this. Maybe you should get some help."

Ryou's face darkened. He opened his mouth to respond when Serenity said quietly: "He already is."

"Serenity!" Ryou stared up at her in horror, his hands tightening on her slender wrists. He looked around to see if anyone else was in earshot.

"Darling, Seto is your friend." She pulled her hands free and leaned down to twine her arms around her fiancé's neck. "You know you can trust him."

"Don't be embarrassed," Seto said earnestly. "Lots of people see psychiatrists, Ry."

Ryou disengaged himself from Serenity's arms and got to his feet. He paced up and down on the ornate Tibetan rug, his eyes on the patterns at his feet. "Not when they're running for public office. You know how some voters feel about a guy who needs a shrink."

"Well, I'm a voter, and I for one am proud of you." Seto grabbed Ryou by the shoulders and forced him to stop pacing. "It takes a strong man to admit he has a problem."

"Yeah, yeah." Ryou gave his friend a sheepish grin, managing to look both relieved and worried at the same time. "Just keep it under you hat, okay?"

"Don't worry." Seto gave Ryou's shoulder a light punch. "If there's one thing I know how to do, it's keep a secret…"

* * *

Sorry about the delay, but I have to re-type all of the chapters of all of my stories... I somehow lost everything. Personally I blame my siblings... somehow, some way, they are to blame.

On a brighter note I'd like to thank Nightcrawlerlover for the comment. All of my stories are on temporary hold while I re-type all of my chapters, hope I can remember everything.

Cazuuki


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: I'd like to thank Blot-of-Blood, Nightcrawlerlover, and Alexandra Valerious for their amazing comments (which helped to spur me back into re-typing the story. Thank you all for the wonderful motivation!

* * *

_Night._

_The sound of rapid footsteps_

_A frightened man runs through a dark limbo-land of crevices and jagged peaks, lit only by the orange light of subterranean fires. Panting, he pauses to look around frantically, beads of sweat shaking from his brow. He recognizes the landscape, and his face crumples in despair. "Oh, no…"_

"_Ryou… Ryou…" The voice is guttural, rasping, familiar. Ryou starts to run again._

"_Go away!" he shouts, "I said I don't _want_ you!"_

_A tall figure looms out of the darkness up ahead. From its fingers it flips a silver coin which soars into the air with a piercing, singing sound._

"_Nooo," Ryou moans. He turns and runs back the other way. The figure rises in his path. Ryou jams his palms against his ears as the coin sings in the air. "Please…" This time when he turns around the figure is already standing there, directly in front of him. Another flip of the coin, and Ryou winces as if in great pain. "Who are you?"_

"_Come now." The figure grabs him by the wrist, a tight, painful grip. "Don't you know?" it chides with an eerie laugh. The figure uses its old on his wrist to push Ryou backward It steps out of the darkness and Ryou gapes at its face in the orange light. It is his own face, but subtly different - a twisted even countenance._

"_No!" Ryou wails. "It's me!" Forced backward by the agonizing grip, he comes to within an inch of falling into the chasm yawning out of nowhere behind him. He strains back against his twisted double, arm-wrestling for his life. With a final grunt of exertion the thing wins the battle, pushing its opponent over the edge. Ryou hurtles into the crevice, his cry of defeated despair echoing as he plummets down the endless shaft._

The district attorney woke up screaming.

He came to his senses sitting bolt upright in bed, sweat beaded on his face and chest. Gasping for breath, he fumbled with the covers, grabbed the phone from his nightstand, and stabbed with his forefinger at a speed dial button. A series of electronic beeps danced in his ear.

"Hello - Dr. Ashita? Ryou Bakura." His words came mingled with gasps. "It's getting worse, much worse. I have to see you. No, not tomorrow - _now!"_

Ryou took a three-minute hot shower to scald himself fully awake, dressed hurriedly, and rode the elevator to his private garage. As his sports car screeched out of the garage and onto the main road, he failed to notice the black sedan sitting in front of the apartment building.

Inside the sedan, Mai tilted her head in the direction of the speeding sports car. "Step on it, Valon," she said to the man behind the wheel. The black car hummed to life. A few moments later it had slipped onto the highway a safe distance behind the other vehicle.

Dr. Ashita Crest was a short, skinny woman with the face of a kindly mother, whose keen, probing eyes were partially hidden by her long red bangs. Like her comfortably furnished office, Dr. Ashita radiated a calm and reassuring presence that inspired confidence in her patients.

Ryou sat in a cushioned chair across from Dr. Ashita, his posture relaxed but his eyes half shut. She spoke to him in soothing tones, her hands and body swaying slightly back and forth as she eased the troubled district attorney into a deep hypnotic trance. His eyes closed gradually.

"You are now in a very deep sleep, Ryou. You are relaxed and happy. Can you hear me?"

"_Mm-hmm_." Ryou gave his head a small nod. He settled deeper into the chair with a sigh of contentment.

"Good." The psychiatrist watched him closely through her bangs. "Now, Ryou, I would like to speak with your other personality. I would like to talk to Big Bad Kura."

A tremor passed through the calm features as the DA squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. "I don't think he wants to talk," he said.

Dr. Ashita shook her head. "He must, if we're to help you," she said firmly. "Please try."

A long moment passed. Ryou's face twitched once, then again. A malevolent look crossed his placid features like a shadow. His eyes opened and he glared at the small psychiatrist, his hand fumbling at an inner pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a silver coin and held it cradled in the palm of his hand. Then he flipped it into the air.

Dr. Ashita made a brief notation in her manila folder on her lap. She tilted her head to one side. "Big Bad Kura?"

"Speaking." His voice was thick and rasping. He stared at her as he flipped the coin, caught it, and flipped it again.

"Thank you for coming to talk with me," she said. "It appears you and Ryou are having trouble again."

Big Bad Kura sneered broadly at the mention of his alter ego. "The guy's a wimp," he said, continuing to flip the shiny silver coin. "Useless."

"Well, Ryou has special problems, as we both know," Dr. Ashita replied in a reasonable tone. "When he was young he was made to feel very guilty about his angry feelings. Unlike most other people, he felt so guilty that he tried to hide them deep inside. He hid them so deeply and for such a long time that they became an illness." She lowered her head slightly and locked stares with the menacing figure. "You, Big Bad Kura, represent those feelings."

The man in the cushioned chair almost missed the spinning coin. He snatched it out of the air and held it clenched in his fist.

"Ryou needs to learn not to feel so guilty," Dr. Ashita continued. "Everyone has angry feelings from time to time, and they do no harm - as long as they don't result in undesirable behavior. When bad feelings make us do bad things, then we must find a way to deal with them."

"You're talkin' to me like I'm a kid," Big Bad Kura said sullenly.

"In a sense you are," Dr. Ashita agreed. "A very angry child, who's been locked away in an attempt to keep him under control. Once Ryou understands this-"

"Then maybe I'll go away." Big Bad Kura rose slowly from the chair, his gaze still locked on the doctor's. He had an ugly expression on his face. "Right?"

"Well…" Suddenly uneasy, Dr. Ashita also got to her feet. "It's not a question of -"

"I'm going _nowhere_, lady!" The big man kicked aside a small metal waste can and knocked over a mahogany coffee table. He stepped closer toward the doctor. "If anybody's leavin', it's Good Little Ryou," he said. "And maybe _you_ with 'im."

Dr. Ashita backed up nervously, stepping behind he own chair to put it between herself and Big Bad Kura. He reached out and wrenched the chair from her grasp, tossing it aside like a piece of doll's furniture. There was a loud crash as one of the office windows shattered, and cold rain began to spatter onto the carpet. With a twisted smile, Kura crossed the braided rug and began to back Dr. Ashita up against the far wall of the office. As he lowered his face toward hers, she thrust up her thin hand and snapped her thumb and second finger once, sharply, in front of his eyes.

The man blinked and swayed slightly, his expression softening. Ryou looked around the room in astonishment at the overturned furniture, his shoulders slumping at the sight of the shattered window. "Good lord, did I do this?"

"Not you," Dr. Ashita told him. She took a deep breath and pulled her hair out of her eyes. "You other personality. It's stronger than I suspected." She led the shaken Ryou across the room. He collapsed back into his chair.

"What am I going to do?" Ryou moaned. He cradled his head in his hands. "I've always been able to keep him inside before."

Dr. Ashita righted her chair and resumed her own seat. "Multiple personalities are as difficult as they are rare, Ryou." She picked up Ryou's file and jotted down several words. "I want you to admit yourself to the psychiatric ward at County General for a few days."

"Huh?" Her comment affected Ryou like a splash of cold water. "No way." He sat up straight and shook his head vigorously. "You know I'm trying to get re-elected."

"You're also trying to save you sanity," Dr. Ashita reminded him gently.

"Isn't there any other way?" Ryou's tone was pleading, almost child-like. "Please?"

"Well…" Dr. Ashita got to her feet and moved off toward her desk, her face thoughtful. "Your schedule has been our biggest stumbling block so far. I suppose if you agreed to cut back on your campaigning, and if we intensified our sessions…" She looked over at him. "I suppose we might be able to come up with something."

"Great!" Ryou bolted out of the chair and rushed to her side. "I'll do it - I swear! You just set up the schedule and I'll be here. Oh, and bill me for the window, all right?" Beaming with gratitude, he put his hand on her small-boned arm. "The important thing is to keep all of this confidential, right?"

Standing silently in the doctor's unlit reception room, Mai gave a short nod and leaned back from the quarter-inch crack at the doorway. "Right," she said softly to herself, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She tiptoed away from the door and slipped into the dark corridor.

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Remember, I love to hear what you think and sometimes I need a little encouragement in order to get up the guts to actually post, so comments are whole-heartedly appreciated.

~Cazuuki


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

* * *

Two weeks later, the district attorney's apartment buzzed with laughter and upbeat conversation on election eve. Marik Ishtar hung up the wall phone in Ryou's kitchen and called for attention. Dozens of well-wishers turned to face him, word spreading through the apartment until the doorways to the living room and dining room were filled with people.

"According to the latest returns," Marik announced, lifting a half-filled tumbler in Ryou's direction, "our incumbent DA here is winning by a landslide. Van Dorn's expecting to throw in the towel within the hour." Cheers and applause sounded throughout the apartment. In the kitchen, somebody tossed a handful of confetti into the air. "Speech!" called a voice from the dining room.

"Now, now," Ryou ducked a silver helium balloon drifting by his head He raised his hands to the crowd of supporters. "Let's wait till all the returns are in before we start the celebration."

Seto Kaiba edged his way toward Ryou. He stuck out his hand. "Congratulations, Ryou. The way I hear it, it's a sure thing." He tilted his head back and eyed his friend. "You know, you're looking pretty calm and collected these days."

"I told you I could handle myself." Ryou reached out to grab Serenity as she walked by with a tray of champagne glasses. He set the tray on a nearby counter and drew her close. "In fact, I'm in such good spirits I might announce a certain wedding date later this evening."

"Ryou!" Serenity stared at him in surprise and delight. "Do you mean it?"

He nodded. "It's part of my acceptance speech." As he leaned in to kiss her, Marik was at his side again. "Uh, sorry, Ry," said his aide. "Phone call."

"Hold those lips," Ryou told Serenity jauntily. "I'll be right back."

Serenity turned to Seto as Ryou threaded his way toward the wall phone. "Things have gotten so much better these past few weeks, Seto. I think he's finally at peace with himself."

Seto put his arm around her shoulder and planted a light kiss on her forehead. "I couldn't be happier for you two," he said.

Ryou pulled the handset from the wall and brought it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Congratulations, Ryou." The voice on the phone was deep, with a silky veneer that made the skin crawl at the base of Ryou's neck. "This is Dartz. Rupert Dartz."

The district attorney's face darkened at the sound of the mobster's name. "What do you want, dirtball?"

"Now, now," the other man purred, "is that any way to talk to a man who's about to make you the deal of a lifetime - or should I say _two_ lifetimes?"

"I'm not interested in any deal you could have to offer, Dartz." Ryou started to pull the receiver away from his ear."

"Oh, I think you will be," came the voice from the phone, "unless, of course, you'd rather I did my negotiating with 'Big Bad Kura.'"

Ryou felt his blood turn to ice. He returned the receiver to his ear as Dartz's silky voice continued: "Or perhaps I should have a little chat with the press first."

Ryou swallowed a deep breath. "What do you want?" he asked in a strained voice.

"There's a limo waiting in the alley. It'll be out front by the time you get downstairs. Take it while you still have a career ahead of you." There was a sharp click, then the dial tone buzzed loudly in Ryou's ear. The DA replaced the receiver on the wall and stood staring at the balloons and confetti that festooned the room. He rubbed his finger against his upper lip.

"Darling, is something wrong?" Serenity was at his side, her hand on his arm.

"No - nothing." Ryou tried to compose himself. "I - I have to see someone, that's all. Would you mind looking after our guests for a little while?"

"But the last returns are just-"

"I won't be long. Open another case of champagne and they'll never know I'm gone." He forced a not of gaiety into his voice. "Thanks, darling." He left her side with a quick kiss on the cheek and headed off to get his coat from the hall closet.

Serenity frowned after him. When she turned, Seto was watching her. He gave her a small nod, then slipped from the kitchen and headed for the door. He caught up with Ryou at the elevator. The DA was shrugging into his overcoat with a distracted expression on his handsome face.

"Hey, Ry, what's up?"

Ryou blinked at Seto. "Uh, a surprise meeting, that's all." He jabbed the elevator button a few times. Seto moved in between Ryou and the elevator, blocking his exit just as the doors slid open. "Now?" he asked. "With whom?"

Ryou stepped to the side and pushed past his friend. "Just mind your own business, all right?"

"Hey." Seto grabbed the other man's arm. "You're in trouble, aren't you?"

Ryou pulled away and pushed the button for the ground floor. The doors closed in Seto's worried face. "My friend," Ryou muttered to himself, "you don't know the _half _of it."

Seto moved to a hall window and looked out. A white limousine sat at the curb, three rough-looking men lounging against its side. As he watched, the DA came out of the front door of the apartment building and got into the limo. The car pulled away from the curb and drove off into the night.

* * *

I'd like to thank SheepAteMyFanBoys for the comment left on my last chapter. Boredom led to me to actually updating. I've been snowed in the house for a few days and I already did all of my chores and such... so here's another chappie for my readers.

Cazuuki


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: Before beginning I'd like to thank Blot-of-Blood for commenting. I'm going to try to update this story (at least) once every week. Maybe that'll help motivate my re-typing process.

* * *

As the white limousine joined the flow of traffic heading downtown, a dark shape trailed it along the rooftops of the Domino skyline. To the occasional preoccupied city dweller who happened to glance up at the right time, it was as if some unknown flying creature flitted on black wings between the buildings.

In fact, the dark shape trailing the limo belonged to a man, making his way through the city in a fashion uniquely his own. The man relied sometimes on a thin, flexible line attached to a grappling hook, and other times on his own highly developed acrobatic skills. He wore a gray uniform which blended seamlessly with the shadows, as if woven of the same intangible substance. His boots and gloves were of the same blue-black material as the mask that concealed the upper half of his face. A long black cape streamed and billowed in the wind behind him as he leapt from fire escape to rooftop, or swung on his line above the busy intersections in pursuit of the long white car. On the man's chest was a golden oval surrounding the image of a bat in flight.

The limo soon left the main thoroughfare. Using a series of side streets, it headed for a section of factories and old refineries located down by the Domino River.

The dark pursuer left his high pathway to alight briefly on a moving bus. He leapt across several other vehicles, moving determinedly against the traffic before landing solidly on the cab of a tractor trailer. The limo was only a few car lengths ahead. Suddenly the road branched in front of them.

The limo swerved and headed down a tunnel to the right, while the truck continued lumbering on its northbound route. Reacting swiftly, the costumed man withdrew a tiny electronic device from the golden metal belt clasped around his waist. Aiming over his shoulder, he pressed a button and fired part of the instrument in the direction of the retreating automobile. He grunted in satisfaction when the device attached itself to the limo's bumper just as the long white car disappeared into the mouth of the tunnel.

The dark tracker leapt from the roof of the truck and fired his grapple line in a single fluid motion. He activated a small motor as the grapple fastened on the cornice of a building, and allowed himself to be reeled up to a nearby rooftop. Then he removed another small device from his utility belt, this one shaped like a miniature TV remote control. He turned to face the outskirts of the city and lifted the remote. As he depressed a button on its surface a small red light winked on.

Roland Pennyworth frowned, centuries of manservant indignation swelling in his chest, at the distorted image conceived in obsidian metallic gloss. Roland's reflection was spoiled by a small white patch on the otherwise spotless, glassine sheet metal, and he was none too pleased about it. As he rubbed a chamois across the imperfection, the omnipresent faint rustling which typically fell behind the hums of computers, climate control systems, and generators took on a mocking significance. Roland glanced upward, scanning the roof of the imposing cavern scornfully, and lamented the unending drawbacks to maintaining a work environment in a space that was also home to several thousand bats. Particularly when his employer kept the same hours the bats did.

The spot removed, Roland scrutinized the vehicle. Long and black, its surface a river of curves and shadows climaxing in two imposing tail fins crowning a jet exhaust, the Batmobile was a train wreck of design objectives; equal parts threat and art. The car's magnificence was lost to Roland as he muttered under his breath. All those millions, and Batman wouldn't buy a car cover.

Suddenly, a warning chime sounded from a nearby console. Hidden mechanisms were being activated. Roland stepped back from the Batmobile just as it began to rotate slowly on its platform. He watched with a raised eyebrow as the engine roared to life and the magnificent vehicle shot up a narrow ramp. Disappearing into the side of the cave wall with a screech of tires, the black car went thundering through a long, artificial passageway in swift obedience to is master's call.

Roland looked down at the cloth in his hand with a sigh and turned his attention to the futuristic jet plane sitting on its own platform several yards away. He glanced back after the vanished Batmobile as he climbed the stone steps to the second vehicle. "Good luck, Master Kaiba," he said under his breath, "and do try to avoid parking under pigeons."

Twenty minutes later, the Batmobile pulled into a nearly deserted parking lot at the rear of an old refinery building. The sleek black car parked some distance from the gleaming white limousine that was the lot's only other occupant. Lights shone weakly through the skylights of the ancient building.

A small blip faded from a radar screen on the Batmobile's instrument panel as a gloved hand touched a series of control keys. The bubble top of the black vehicle slid back silently and the driver emerged.

"Stealing someone's psychiatric file is pretty low," Ryou Bakura said to the man standing in front of him, "even for a swine like you."

The district attorney was sitting in a wooden chair in an office area set in one corner of a large open chamber. The rest of the huge room was occupied by smelting vessels that fumed and smoked. The relentless grind of distant generators added to the general hellish atmosphere created by the sights and smells of an ore refinery in operation.

Rupert Dartz leaned his body against the edge of a battered desk, a smile of mild amusement on his lips as he leafed through the contents of a thick manila file folder.

"But it makes for such fascinating reading," Dartz protested. "Listen to this, girls and boys-" He raised his voice to include Mai and the half dozen hoodlums who stood expectantly around the office area. "Says here, when Radiant Ryou was a little boy, he was the frequent target of a bully named Ushio. Everyday after school, this reprehensible youngster would seek him out and bother him, making his young life so miserable - until one day tormented little Ryou got so mad he hauled off and slugged him one."

"Ooooh," the flunkies chorused, eyebrows raised in awe.

"Of course the bully ran away, as bullies will, which made our little man feel real proud of himself." Dartz paused dramatically. "That is, until the next morning, when he heard that young Ushiho had been taken to the emergency room the previous night and admitted to the hospital."

Mai gave a low whistle and grinned at the uncomfortable DA. "That was some punch, tiger."

"That's just what little Ryou-boy thought." Dartz nodded in agreement. Then he cracked his own wide grin. "Except, the kid happened to be in the hospital for an attack of acute appendicitis."

As the gang members snickered appreciatively at this piece of news, none of them noticed the dark shape moving furtively above them through the rafters.

"Now poor little Ryou didn't find that out the truth for quite a long while," Dartz continued, "and in the meantime he felt so terribly guilty that he never, ever allowed himself to show his anger again." The crime boss closed the file with a nasty chuckle and looked smugly at the object of his tale. "And that, my children, was the start of Big Bad Kura."

Ryou gripped the back of his chair with a shaking hand and got to his feet. His face was red. "Just what is it you want from me, Dartz?" he demanded of the taller man.

"Nothing, really. Just a few minor favors" - Dartz gave a tiny shrug - "from the DA's office."

Ryou shook his head. "You're dreaming."

Dartz's shrug was larger this time. "Then, as a concerned citizen of this fair metropolis, I feel compelled to turn a certain document over to the press." He patted the manila folder on the desk. "After all, the good people of Domino have a right to know what sort of person" - he smirked at Ryou, who was standing stock still - "or should I say 'persons,' they've just re-elected."

Ryou was blinking rapidly. Growing in his ears was the sound of a spinning, singing coin. He struggled to maintain his composure, his face beginning to twitch furiously as a battle raged beneath its surface. Dartz's flunkies nudged one another and pointed as the signs of the district attorney's rage became more obvious.

"So what do you say, Ryou-boy?" Dartz curled his upper lip. "Do we have a deal?"

"There's just one problem, slime." The voice that emerged was surprisingly deep and rasping, as Ryou's own lips pulled back in a sneering grin.

Dartz frowned. "And what's that?"

The grinning man took a step forward and stared up at the crime boss. "You're talkin' to the wrong Ryou." His hand shot out cobra-like and grabbed Dartz by the collar. With a twist of his arm, he hauled the shorter man into the air. Dartz cried out in alarm as he felt his feet leave the ground, his mind reeling, wondering how Radiant Ryou developed this kind of strength.

Dartz's thugs swarmed toward their panicked boss. With a wild cry, Kura drew back his arm and hurled Dartz into their midst, scattering the flunkies like bowling pins. He launched himself at Dartz a second time, drew the shocked crime lord to his feet, and pulled back his fist. His grin grew wider.

Then a black-gloved hand captured his fist from behind. Kura struggled against the powerful grip. He stared back over his shoulder. "_Batman_!"

Muscles straining, the Dark Knight hauled Kura back and away from the cowering Dartz. "Come on, Ryou." His own voice was a husky whisper. "Let's get out of here."

Kura wrenched free of the intruder's grip and whirled around to stare at the masked man. "Get away from me!" he roared. "Dartz is _mine_!" He flung up his hands and gave Batman a powerful shove, sending him stumbling back against a large rectangular panel of gray metal set into the wall. A red and black sign across the front of the box red DANGER: HIGH VOLTAGE.

Dartz had staggered back up against the desk. He brought his fist down hard on the manila file folder. "Get them!" he yelled. "Both of them!" Snatching up the folder, he dashed out of the small office and hurried down a metal walkway that ran the length of the room between tow rows of giant smelting pots.

"Wild," Mai murmured to herself on the sidelines, watching the free-for-all in wide-eyed wonder as the thugs descended on Kura and the Dark Knight.

The hoodlums concentrated their efforts on the costumed crime fighter. While Batman fought to dispose of his attackers, Kura broke free of the lone man who was trying to subdue him. "Gimme that file!" he roared, taking off in hot pursuit of the fleeing Dartz.

Dartz glanced over his shoulder with a look of panic and ducked around a corner. Above him on the was another of the gray electrical panels.

Valon Cree had been guarding the entrance to the refinery when he heard the sounds of a fight. Now he burst into the office, tommy gun in hand, and surveyed the scene. Darting across the room, he looked down the long corridor and saw Kura nearing the far corner.

"I'll get him!" Grinning viciously, Valon raised the gun in his arms and squeezed the trigger.

"Look out, Ryou!" A streak of black and gray shot out of the office and hit the hood with a flying tackle. At the end of the corridor, Kura turned around. He hit the deck just as a volley of bullets sprayed across the electrical panel above his head. Wires were severed and the panel exploded in a shower of brilliance. One of the live wires whipped around like an angry serpent, hissing and shooting sparks. Its writing end disappeared into the nearest of the big refinery vats. There was a split second of silence, then the vat itself exploded with a thunderous cracking sound. Kura was hurled backward, falling facedown on the metal floor.

At the other end of the corridor, Batman picked Valon Cree up in a sweeping motion and tossed him back into the office. He raced to the side of the unconscious DA.

"Ryou!" The Dark Knight knelt next to the other man and gently rolled him over. Ryou Bakura's arm had been flung over the right side of his face, shielding it from the worst effects of the blast. The other side…

Batman recoiled in horror. "Ryou," he moaned. "No…"

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Thanks again for the review they are what's keeping the story alive. That I'm my utter boredom ^_^ Remember the more you comment the more likely I'll be able to remember to update next week.

Cazuuki


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: First off, I'd like to thank Margherita-Lily and Suma-dragon's child for the comments. Secondly, I'm sorry I didn't update last week, but our wireless was messing up and my sibs are complete computer hogs. Lastly, for my fans of Vampyre Story, I should be updating soon. If you haven't read it you should.

* * *

Sunlight streamed in through the window, accompanied by the sound of a pair of blue jays disputing ownership of a crust of bread. The room was stark white and contained a bed, two chairs, and a cart filled with complicated-looking instruments.

Serenity Wheeler occupied one of the chairs. She sat next to the bed and held the hand of the man who lay there. Her face was stained with tears.

The face of the man in the bed was only half visible. White gauze bandages swathed the left side of Ryou Bakura's head from throat to crown. He was asleep, his heartbeat and other vital signs monitored by the wires and tubes that connected his bed to the instrument-laden cart. Now and then the visible portion of his face twitched and grimaced, as though reacting to an unpleasant dream.

In the corner of the room stood two more individuals. A tired-looking Seto Kaiba watched as Dr. Denquel, an elderly black man with a long, sensitive face, checked the output of the monitoring device.

Serenity gave a small sigh and lifted her eyes from her fiancé's unconscious face. "Doctor," she said softly, "will he be all right?"

"He'll pull through," Dr. Denquel answered with a nod. "He's lucky Batman got him here so quickly."

Seto considered the bandaged half of Ryou's head. "What about his face?" he asked in a low voice.

"That's a different matter," the doctor replied gravely. "Though a plastic surgeon should be able to repair most of the physical scars."

Seto nodded slowly. He watched the signs of inner torment twitch and strain his friend's face. "I'm more worried about the psychological scars," he murmured.

Sunset came in a blaze of orange above the Domino skyline. Rupert Dartz stood before the large picture window in his penthouse apartment and scanned the evening newspaper. A file photo of Ryou Bakura displayed the district attorney's winning smile beneath a banner headline: BAKURA CAUGHT IN REFINERY PLANT - DA DAYS MAY BE OVER.

Mai was reading over Dartz's shoulder. "Looks like Ryou-boy's finally out of your hair," she said with an airy smile.

"I wish I could be sure of that." Dartz strode to the fireplace and tossed the paper into the flames. The fire leapt eagerly. In a moment, one side of Ryou Bakura's face had shriveled and darkened beyond recognition. Mai came up behind Dartz and slipped her arm through his. The pair watched intently as the flames devoured the rest of the front page.

The patient sat stiffly upright against his pillows as Dr. Denquel snipped and pulled at the bandages on the left side of his face. Ryou felt like an onion that was being unpeeled. A young nurse held a tray of instruments at the doctor's side.

"Now, you understand there's going to be some visible damage," Dr. Denquel said as he worked. "But I've already scheduled a consultation with a top-notch surgeon and…" He paused as he gingerly removed the last layer of bandages.

The doctor's eyes grew wide. The nurse looked up and gave an involuntary gasp, quickly covering her mouth with her palm. Metal instruments rattled on the tray.

"Well?" the patient asked. His voice was rasping, guttural, as he looked back and forth between doctor and nurse. "Give me a mirror."

"Umm…" Dr. Denquel eyed him uncertainly. "Ryou, it might be a good idea to wait until-"

"I _said_ give me a mirror!" He reached out and grabbed the doctor by his collar, the stethoscope knotting in his powerful fingers. "Now!"

Serenity waited patiently for the elevator doors to open. She was dressed in an expensive pale blue suit and she carried a large bouquet of daylilies and roses. The expression on her face reflected in the shiny metal doors was both nervous and hopeful - with good reason, she told herself. Today was the big day - the removal of the bandages that meant that Ryou's recovery could begin. Perhaps now the two of them could start putting the awful events of the past few weeks behind them and get on with their lives. Finally the doors slid open and she emerged into the long corridor.

She had started briskly down the hallway when a howling scream erupted from on of the private rooms at the far end. There was the sound of furniture being toppled and glass breaking, then a thin man burst out of the left-hand room and stumbled into the center of the hallway. Dressed in pajamas and a robe, he stood barefoot on the cold tiled floor, his chest heaving. He was staring down at the polished tile and he seemed confused, disorientated. The right side of his face was turned toward Serenity.

"Ryou?" She began to hurry toward him. "What happened?" As she neared him, he lifted his head and turned slowly to face her. Serenity's footsteps slowed as the left side of his face came into view.

It was as if an invisible line had been drawn down the exact center of his face from forehead to chin. To the left of that line, the skin was ghastly, mottled blue-gray in color, its rough surface pebbled with small wart-like bumps. The left side of his lips were bright red and grotesquely swollen and drawn back in an hideous, permanent leer, while his left eye bulged from its socket like the yolk of an uncooked egg, its black pupil fixed malevolently on the woman who approached. The hair on the left side of his head stood up from his scalp in a coarse tangle.

The other side of his head had not been injured. The fact that "Radiant Ryou" Bakura still peered uncertainly from the right side of the bisected face made the leering travesty of the left all the more horrible.

Serenity felt her heart hammering in her chest as she stared at the awful contrast. A pink haze swam across her vision and she fell slowly to the floor, the flowers spilling out of their tissue paper wrapping to scatter in a pool of red and orange at her side.

The divided man walked stiffly forward and stood over his fiance for a long moment. He looked back over his shoulder. Noises were beginning to come from inside his room. The elevators gleamed at him from the end of the hallway. "Good-bye, Serenity," he rasped as a buzzer began to sound insistently. Then he lowered his head like a bull and charged off down the corridor.

* * *

Remember fans, I use your comments, questions, and wild accusations to fuel my writing flame. So the more there are the quicker I'll have the next chappie up!

Lots of love on my birthday,

Cazuuki


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: I'd like to thank: Blot-of-Blood, tinkletimekelly, and Suma-dragon's child for the awesome reviews. And for you Blot-of-Blood, I will try to enter in some spaces between scene changes (might even go and add some to the previous chapters as well)

* * *

Half a year passed

Domino City breathed a sigh of relief as early May at last brought an end to what had been one of the longest and bitterest winters in the history of the city.

A week of balmy days had melted the last of the stubborn piles of soot-crusted snow and coaxed a dizzying assortment of flowers into bloom in the wealthier sections of the city. In the poorer neighborhoods, children without jackets ran up and down the littered streets well into the evening, finally able to release a season's worth of pent-up energy.

A black-and-white limo glided up to the curb along a dingy street not far from the depressed section of the city popularly known as Crime Alley. The rusted street sign proclaimed this thoroughfare to be Second Avenue, and the number 22 showed in the grime above the doorway of a run-down-looking tenement. The limo's engine shut off and the headlights folded noiselessly beneath the hood.

The front seat of the car was occupied by two men. Anyone peering through the windshield would think he was looking into a trick mirror, for the two were identical twins, their only noticeable difference was the fact that they parted their red hair on opposite sides. A single dark figure sat in the shadows in the backseat.

"This is it," the twin who sat in the driver's seat said over his shoulder. "Rupert Dartz's bookie joint."

The tall man in the backseat moved in the shadows. Then his hand came into the light, holding a shiny coin the size of a silver dollar in his palm. The coin lay heads up.

"Good heads, we leave 'em alone," intoned a rasping voice from the darkness, as the man rotated the piece of silver in his fingertips. Unexpectedly, the other side of the coin was also a heads - but one which had been badly scarred by some sharp object, leaving the face with a marred and twisted look. "Bad heads, we hit 'em - hard." He flipped the two-headed coin. It spun in the air and landed in his hand with the scarred side up.

Inside the building, money was changing hands in large quantities.

"Glow Worm in the fourth at Belmont to win." A man grinned confidently as he placed his bet at a booth crisscrossed with wire like a cage. Crowds of well-dressed people milled about the lavishly appointed room, reading racing forms and watching the results of various races on the several large screen TVs. Their clothing identified them as members of Domino's affluent - if not always law-abiding - upper crust.

There was a loud, sudden crash as the front door was kicked open. After a brief babble of surprise, the gambling joint went silent as the red-headed twins entered. They were carrying tommy guns. "Everybody _down_!" yelled the twin on the right. The guests looked at one another in shock. The redhead fired a warning shot at the ceiling, hitting one of the TV monitors. The giant screen imploded with a hollow boom. Everyone hit the floor.

"It was my turn to make the announcement," the other twin whispered accusingly in his brother's ear.

"Mine." The first man shook his head. "You did it last time."

"But you got to drive-" He broke off his whine when as heavy footsteps approached from behind. The twins moved apart as the tall man from the car stepped into the light.

"It's _him_," one of the bookies whispered to the man on his left. "I figgered he'd get to us sooner or later."

"I guess now we'll be able to tell our grandchildren that we saw Two-Face and lived to tell it." His partner gulped. "Least I hope we will…"

The tall man stood at the entrance to the sunken gambling room and surveyed the crowd. His finely tailored suit was brilliantly white on the right side and dead black on the left. What drew stares of the onlookers, however, was his horribly divided face, with its calm smile on one side and its grotesque blue-gray leer on the other.

"Do ya believe that getup? An that _mug_!" a tough-looking man with a squashed nose remarked to the woman at his side. "Man, he's even uglier than he looks on TV."

The divided man lifted his hand to smooth the neatly groomed white hair on the right side of his face, then moved to pat the tangled equally-white locks on the uncombed left. He scowled at the bookies trembling in their cages, then smiled his ghastly smile up at the smoking TV screen.

"Don't bother to adjust your picture," he rasped. "For the next five minutes, _I'm_ in control. Min! Max!" He jerked his bizarre head at his henchmen and nodded toward the cashier's cage. "Get the money!"

The twins ducked inside the betting cages and began to empty out drawers full of cash. The man addressed as Max spied an old wooden chest next to a slot machine. He lifted it up for his boss's approval. "Look at this - must be a couple hundred silver dollars."

Two-Face nodded. "Bring it."

As Max's brother stuffed cash into a canvas bag, his eyes fell on an ornate ring with a large diamond sparkling on the hand of the head cashier. "I'll take that," Min crowed, yanking it off the man's finger. "Hey, boss!" He displayed his booty to Two-Face, beaming.

The grotesque man's eyes narrowed. "Jewelry wasn't part of the plan." He paused to think, coming to a quick decision. "We gotta flip for it."

"Wha-a-at?" Min stared incredulously between the shiny ring and his boss.

Two-Face tossed the silver coin into the air and caught it deftly in his long fingers. The smooth side lay face up. "Good heads," he muttered. He lifted his eyes to his hireling. "Leave the ring!"

"B-but, Two-Face…"

The black-and-white clad man crossed the distance between them in two powerful strides. He knocked the ring from Min's hand with a vicious blow. "I said _leave _it!"

Silently, Min gathered up the bags of loot, while Max shouldered the ornate box full of silver coins. Two-Face stood with his feet apart, as his double-barreled shotgun trained on the crowd as his henchmen hurried from the bookie joint.

"Before I go, I want you all to give Mr. Rupert Dartz a brief message for me. I'll try to make it an easy one for you to remember.'

The elegantly dressed men and women flattened against the floor, their eyes clenched shut in terror as the bizarre criminal sprayed the walls of half the room with bullets. Books toppled and bottles shattered, and the giant TV screen imploded with a hollow boom. "And now" - Two-Face lifted the nose of his weapon in a mock salute - "enjoy the rest of you evening!"

* * *

Hope you enjoy and remember I live on your comments and recommendations. Did I spell that right... oh, well? I hope to have updates for Cartoon High and Vampyre Story sometime later this week (Lord willing). And thanks again for the comments.

Cazuuki


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: First off I'd like to thank SheepAteMyFanBoys, Suma-dragon's child, and akira45 for their reviews. Now let's celebrate 10 chapters *throws confetti* Next, I'd like to announce that Yugi will be appearing soon. Yeah, he's gonna come in fashionably late. Plus, another character that I've already introduced will reappear with a much bigger role. Stay tuned!

* * *

"_Blast!_"

Rupert Dartz slammed his fist down on his polished walnut desk. "How much did he take me for this time?"

Dartz glowered at the three men who faced him. At his side, Mai leaned back against the wall, buffing her nails as she watched the interaction from beneath her long lashes. "I think the figure Valon mentioned was two hundred thousand." She lifted her eyes to the hood in the middle. "Wasn't that it, Valon?"

"Y-yeah, boss," Valon Cree confirmed nervously. "What she said."

Dartz heaved himself up from behind the desk and paced the hardwood floor of his office, muttering unintelligibly. His henchmen gave him a wide berth as he passed. Plastered on the wall behind him was a series of recent newspaper clippings. The headlines shouted: TWO-FACE HITS DARTZ AGAIN, TWO-MONTH REIGN OF TERROR, TWO-FACE TOTAL APPROACHES TWO MILLION.

A red-headed crook shook his head in wonder. "I thought we got rid of this guy."

"Are you kidding?" Mai laughed mockingly. "We _created _him."

Dartz seized a silver letter opening lying on the blotter on his desk. With a savage swing of his long arms he stabbed the implement into one of the clippings, dead center in a blurred photo of his two-sided enemy. When he removed his hand, the letter opener remained embedded in the wall.

"Two months of this is long enough!" Dartz lowered himself back into his chair and leaned forward, both hands on the blotter. He glanced at his wristwatch. "It's getting late," he growled. "Valon, get the car. Ralph, round up the other guys. We'll deal with that freak later. Right now, we've got urgent business at the old Linebarger Storage warehouse over on the corner of Smith and Cordwainer."

An eerie light flickered past the windows of the run-down warehouse, the only source of light other than a sickly greenish streetlamp in the entire deserted shopping district. Inside, the hand-held flashlight barely kept the brooding shadows at bay in the enormous room. An errant bat flittered down above the heads of two of Dartz's hoods and they ducked uneasily.

"Jeez, I hate this place!"

"You and me both." The red-headed hood's name was Alister. He was using a crowbar to pry the tops off of several wooden crates. "Hold that light steady, will ya, Valon? He wiped sweat from his forehead. "I don't know why we gotta do this kinda work in the middle of the flippin' night."

Echoing footsteps sounded in the darkness, and Valon wheeled, shining his flashlight toward the center of the room. "Jeez!"

"And maybe you'd prefer moving contraband in broad daylight when the cops would be sure to notice." Rupert Dartz stepped forward, squinting in the bright light. He was dressed elegantly in an immaculate white suit under a pearl-gray overcoat. Three more hoods waited at his back.

"Jeez, boss," Valon whined, "you shouldn't oughtta sneak up on guys like that!"

Dartz gestured at the crates. "Just get that stuff loaded," he ordered. He glanced uneasily from side to side and pulled the collar of the overcoat up higher around his neck. "I never did like this place."

Suddenly a white brilliance flooded the interior of the building, as the windows were swept with the blinding glare of floodlights.

"This is the police!" boomed an amplified voice. "We have you surrounded! Come out with your hands up!"

Dartz moved swiftly to the nearest window and peered carefully around the frame. Police cars surrounded the building, their red and blue lights strobing on their roofs. Searchlights swept the storage building.

"Aw, man…" Valon groaned and turned to the thug next to him. "Whatta they call it when you feel like you been someplace before?"

The smaller man shrugged unhappily, eyes on the probing lights. "Trouble," he said. "Double trouble."

Dartz flattened himself against the wall as a light swept past. "I can't be seen here!" he hissed to his henchmen. "Hold 'em off!" He ran past Valon and Alister, who stared at each other, the wrestled wicked-looking black guns free of their long coats.

Dartz dodged through shadowy corridors of stacked crates, his eyes on a ladder fastened to the far wall. As he set his polished shoe on the bottom rung a vast splintering sound came from the warehouse.

The doors burst inward, their remains ground beneath the treads of an armored half-track vehicle with DOMINO POLICE stenciled in yellow on its side. Shots rang out as Valon and Alister emptied their revolvers futilely at the huge machine.

Dartz turned his attention back to the ladder and hauled himself upward. A spotlight beam swept the wall inches beneath his foot as he wrenched a trapdoor open and squeezed out onto the dark roof of the building.

The rooftop was host to a huge, industrial air-conditioning unit, a metal monster that sprawled its pips and ventilating units over the tarmac like the tentacles of a mechanical octopus. Steam vented in here and there among its limbs. Dartz tilted his head at the sounds of gunfire and shouts from below. "I _definitely _never liked this place," he muttered.

Then something large and black swooped high above his head. He ducked and fired his gun into the night, then turned and ran heavily to the other side of the roof. Sounds of battle continued from the street as Dartz waved his gun nervously, his eyes flickering left and right.

"C'mon!" he shouted. "You're not takin' Rupert Dartz without a fight!" He wheeled about and froze, his jaw hanging open.

A shadowy, bat-winged silhouette stood in the exhalation from one of the vents, the edges of the long black cape lifting and falling eerily in the steam.

"_You!_" Dartz raised his gun and fired three times in rapid succession at the dark silhouette. "If I gotta go down, I'm takin' you with me!" But the dark figure had already disappeared into the tangle of pipes and vents. Dartz backed toward the edge of the roof, his gaze darting from shadow to shadow. He fired again, then lowered the gun and peered unsteadily into the chaos of steam and darkness. Behind him a winged shadow rose silently.

Commissioner Mahado was setting his shoulder against the trapdoor just as a wail of surprise and fear came from the rooftop. The cry was cut off abruptly.

Mahado heaved against the door. It gave way and he climbed cautiously out onto the roof. The young tri-haired man at his back stepped into the lead, while following Mahado came a Latino woman in police blues, and a spiky haired man wearing a brown trench coat.

"Careful, Yami!" Mahado put his hand on the young man's arm. "Dartz won't give up without a fight. Taylor, Montoya - fan out!" The four officers separated and moved out across the roof, guns drawn.

"Don't make this hard on yourself, Dartz!" Yami Mason moved forward warily, his eyes trying to penetrate the tangle of pipes and shadows. "We know you're up here. Now step out where we can see you!"

There was a snarl of inarticulate rage, then a sullen voice called back: "Not even if I _could_, flatfoot!"

Yami looked back at Mahado in surprise. Then Officer Renee Montoya pointed to a huddled shape lying at the base of the air-conditioning unit. "Look!"

Detective Tristan Taylor was nearest to the machine. When he ducked under the branching metal pipes he found Rupert Dartz glaring up at him, the crime boss securely trussed in coils of thin rope. The pointy headed detective scratched his chin. "Well, I'll be…"

The four remoistened their weapons and gathered around the captive Dartz. "That's service for you, huh, Yami?" Mahado slapped his deputy on the back with a wide grin. "Not only does he catch 'em for us - sometimes he even _gift wraps_ 'em!"

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Author's Note: Again... Yay! 10 chapters! I'm so happy! Remember reviews are me bread and butter, which is ironic because I don't like toast... with or without cinnamon. Still review :P

Cazuuki


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: I don't have anyone to thank for commenting this time :( Oh well! Here's the next chapter (hopefully, I get more reviews this time)

* * *

Dark portraits peered down from the shadows that cloaked the high walls of the huge living room of Kaiba Manor. In an arrangement of pale sofas in the center of the room, Seto Kaiba sat staring moodily at a widescreen television, remote control in hand. On the screen Vivian Wong brushed black hair back from her face in a practiced gesture and smiled at the camera.

"Domino's deputy police commissioner, Yami Mason, who was instrumental in capturing reputed mob leader Rupert Dartz last night-"

_Click_.

Seto pressed his thumb over the channel selector button. Vivian's face was replaced by that of a bronzed newsman with an earnest expression. A photograph of Yami Mason wearing the same sober look was superimposed on the wall behind him.

"Yami attributed the incriminating evidence against Dartz to an unnamed informant-"

_Click_.

Footage of Yami standing outside the Linebarger Storage Company flashed on the screen. Commissioner Mahado stood behind his protégé, beaming with pride as the deputy commissioner stepped forward to answer a reporter's query.

"The commissioner and I won't rest until every street in Domino - and that includes Crime Alley - is safe for decent folks to walk."

_Click_.

Seto pressed the off button. The television went dark.

"You're quite as bad as Master Yugi when it comes to the television, sir." Roland stepped back from the sofa and regarded his employer. "You'll ruin your eyes changing channels so rapidly - not to mention your attention span."

Seto sat with fingers steepled under his chin, frowning thoughtfully at the empty screen.

"Perhaps the damage has already been done," the butler continued after a moment. "My word, Master Seto, one would think the fall of Rupert Dartz would bring a smile even to your face. After all - you did lend a hand in his capture…"

Seto favored his old friend with a brief smile. "Crooks like Dartz don't tend to fall very far, Roland. I'll wait until the judge passes sentence before I start grinning. Still…" He stretched back into the cushions and extended his arms in front of him, cracking his knuckles. "I'd love to know who this 'unnamed informant' is. This is the third gang lord Yami's brought down in as many months."

Roland sighed. "Yes, it's quite alarming. If this trend continues, you might even be forced into taking a vacation."

~*(KC)*~

In the lavish penthouse overlooking Domino's fashionable Bester Street, Mai sat in the middle of Rupert Dartz's cavernous chair and fiddled with her own remote control.

"I'm tired of news," she said to the two men standing on either side of the large chair. "It gets depressing watching them hustle the boss away in cuffs over and over. Isn't there an old movie on or something?"

Valon reached out his hand for the remote. "I think the Stooges are on channel twelve,"

he said hopefully. Just then a small noise at their back made the three look around.

"Looks like we've got a nice trio of stooges right here in this room," Dartz growled from the doorway. Half a dozen flunkies slouched into the penthouse at his back as Valon and Alister leaped to attention.

"S-sorry, boss, we was just trying to find out when you was coming home," Valon stammered.

Mai uncoiled herself from the chair and crossed the thick carpet. "And I was just keeping your seat warm till you got here," she said, removing Dartz's overcoat and tossing it to a nearby hood. "How on earth did you manage to get sprung so fast?"

Dartz jerked his thumb at a greasy-looking man at his side. "Good mouthpiece," he said.

"Ernest Doubleday, attorney-at-law." The lawyer bowed his head modestly. "There was a - problem - with the warrant the police employed to arrest Mr. Dartz," he explained. "Really, the law has become quite careless lately."

Dartz made his way to the big chair and settled himself with a sigh. He gestured at Alister and Valon. "So how did you two slip the net?"

"We, uh, ducked out a side door into the alley about the same time you was bein' tied up, boss," Alister said nervously. "Is that okay?"

Dartz snorted in disgust and groped among the cushions for the remote control. "I want to hear what the news creeps have to say now that I'm out," he said with a thin smile as he clicked the TV on. "It kills them when they've got to report something like this." A tanned newscaster with a sober expression filled the screen.

"-bulletin just in that another reputed mob of boss Rupert Dartz's illicit gambling casinos has been raided by the bizarre underworld figure known as two-face," the newsman was saying. Footage of police cars flashing their lights down a cluttered alley appeared behind him.

The screen went blank as Dartz surged up out of his chair and hurled the remote across the room with an oath. A telephone began to ring in a corner of the room, and one of the flunkies scampered to answer it.

"Boss? It's Blinky over at the Double Deuce. He says the freak was just there. Had a coupla chicks with 'im this time. Cleaned 'em out."

Dartz stormed across the room and grabbed the phone from his quaking henchman. "Listen to me," he thundered into the receiver. "Spread the word. I'm putting out a contract. One million-" He cut himself off and pointed an angry finger at the assembled thugs. "No, make it _two _million - one for each face - for the man who brings me Two-Face." He slammed the receiver down and stalked from the room.

Mai stood at the rear of astonished crooks. She had a crafty look on her attractive face. "And who says it has to be a _man_?" she murmured to herself. She turned and poked Valon Cee in the ribs. "C'mon," she said with a toss of her long blond hair. "You and I have plans to make…"

* * *

Author's Note: I think Yugi should be in the 17th chapter (I can't remember -.-') Keep an eye out for him!

Cazuuki


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: Thanks for the comment Blot-of-Blood! I really do appreciate comments... it let's me know that people are actually reading what I wrote and how they feel about it. Hope people read this... do people read these. I normally do, but I guess some people don't... oh well! On with the story.

* * *

Roland wielded his feather duster with a practiced motion, reaching in to sweep across the keyboard of the Batcave's main computer just as Seto lifted his fingertips for a moment's pause. Seto cocked an eyebrow at his old friend and cleared his throat, his fingers poised above the shining keys.

"One moment, sir… there." Roland moved on to the top of a nearby monitor. He peered down at Seto's work as he continued to dust. "So you think you've discerned a pattern to Mr. Bakura's crimes?"

Seto winced at the name. "Two-Face, Roland," he said stiffly. "He calls himself Two-Face now." He lifted his hands to the screen. "Look at the places he's robbed over the past several weeks: Club Twenty-two on Second Avenue, Gemini Jewelers, the Two's Company Café…" His fingers danced on the keyboard. "And tonight, the Double Deuce."

"All two's…" Roland's eyes widened. "My word, sir - has anyone informed the Second National Bank?"

Seto shook his head. "That won't be a target. Neither will Double-Up Dating Service. Every place Two-Face has robbed so far has been a front for Rupert Dartz's criminal activities." He swiveled in his chair to face Roland directly. "Unfortunately, by my count he's used up all of Dartz's holdings."

Roland considered this, duster poised. "Perhaps he'll rob them twice - a sort of 'double or nothing'."

"No, I think Two-Face is through humiliating Dartz. Now he wants him out of the way. I just have to figure out how he plans to do it."

Roland applied his gloved finger to a nearby trophy stand. "It is growing late, sir. Perhaps you should get some sleep and approach the subject with a fresh mind in the morning."

"I've got a bit more research to do before I turn in," Seto told him. He gestured to a two-foot stack of books and magazines at the edge of the console and sighed. "He's out there somewhere and he needs my help."

"Keep your guard up, sir. As you said yourself, Mr. Bakura - that is, Two-Face - is no longer the fellow we knew."

"I know, Roland," Seto turned back to the computer screen as the butler headed toward the elevator that connected the Batcave with the manor above it. "Though I can't shake the feeling that my old friend is somewhere inside that monster," he said wistfully.

Roland paused at the entrance to the elevator. ""And that, Master Seto, may make him even more dangerous…"

~*(KC)*~

_Night._

_The sound of rapid footsteps._

_A frightened man runs down a twisted street. An eerie mist cloaks the cityscape, obscuring the buildings that tower like mountain peaks above the street._

_Ryou Bakura races out of the mist. Panting heavily, he halts at the end of the block and looks right and left. He chooses quickly and races off to the right._

_A few seconds later another figure emerges from the mist: a figure garbed in gray and black, with a long cloak and a black mask that rises in two sharp points above the wearer's head. The second man reaches the end of the block and charges to the right after the fleeing Ryou Bakura. Almost immediately he finds himself standing at the edge of a deep chasm._

_A smoky haze rises from the chasm and orange light flickers far below. Spanning the pit is a rickety wooden bridge, and standing in the center of the bridge is Ryou Bakura._

_"Ryou!" The man in the mask hesitates at the edge of the bridge. Creaking and bending under the other man's weight, it looks ready to collapse at any moment._

_"Stay back!" warns the other man. His voice is guttural, rasping._

_"Ryou, please!" the masked man pleads. He takes a step back from the chasm. "Let me help you."_

_Images flicker in the haze above the pit: District Attorney Ryou Bakura flinging a hoodlum from the back of a police van and pummeling him mercilessly while a blank-faced crowd stares aghast._

"_You know there was something terribly wrong with me."_

_In the haze, Ryou throws Marik Ishtar into a buffet table on the grounds of Kaiba Manor._

_"I thought you were my friend."_

_The interior of the old refinery swims up in the orange smoke. Wires sizzle and sparks fly. A huge vat explodes. Then a chill wind blows across the pit, whipping the images into tatters of mist._

_"You should have been able to help me. But you didn't…" The man on the bridge gestures hopelessly at his face, which is divided now into two halves, one strong and handsome, the other horribly disfigured, a mask of rage and pain. "Now look at me!" thunders the creature called Two-Face. "Look at what you allowed to happen!"_

_"But I tried, Ryou." The masked man's voice cracks with despair. "I tried to help-"_

_The bridge gives way without warning and the two-faced man plummets like a stone into the orange darkness. "Why couldn't you save me… save me… save meeeee…" His voice echoes from the walls of the chasm, growing fainter as he falls out of sight_

_"Ryou!" The man in the mask rushes up to the edge of the pit and peers down. "No!" he cries._

~*(KC)*~

Seto Kaiba lifted his head with a start, gasping for breath. He looked around in confusion at the dark cavern, then drew his palm across his sweating face. He leaned forward as his breathing quieted, and buried his face in his hands.

He straightened after a few moments. Lying on the computer console in front of him, and strewn across the worktable at his side, were dozens of newspaper clippings and magazine articles about the man who now called himself Two-Face. Atop the stack of books on criminology and psychology lay a volume opened to a page with the heading "Multiple Personalities."

Seto lifted a front-page newspaper clipping with a large picture of the former DA. The corners of his mouth lifted in a sad smile as he folded the paper in half, banishing the damaged side of his friend's face.

"So what are _you_ dreaming tonight, Ryou?" Seto Kaiba whispered in the huge, quiet cavern. "Peaceful dreams? Nightmares? Maybe both at once?" He allowed the paper to unfold and laid it back on the console. He sighed. "Sleep well, my friend," he murmured. "Wherever you are, whatever you've become, I'll find a way to save you. I promise."

From the console, the picture stared back at him. One side of the patchwork face was filled with mocking rage, while the other seemed to hold a tiny glimmer of hope.

* * *

Author's Note: I combined Ch 12 and 13 because 12 was about 400 words and 13 was a little off 700. Hope you like it! Comments make me happy btw!

Cazuuki


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: First off I'd like to apologize for not updating in like forever. To make up for that this chapter is exactly one thousand and six hundred and thirty-four words (hope that's enough for ya ;P) Next I'd like to thank all of my loyal viewers for the support and watching this story, and Blot-of-Blood for all the reviews (they do keep me going). That really means a lot to me… I mean it.

* * *

Serenity Wheeler lifted the gilt-framed photograph of Ryou Bakura from the nightstand. Tears welled in her eyes as she sat down on the edge of her bed and gazed at the handsome, cheerful face. She leaned forward suddenly, clutching the picture to her heart, her body racked with deep sobs. After several moments she took a deep breath and returned the photo to its place on the nightstand. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and got shakily to her feet. As she was crossing her bedroom the doorbell rang.

Serenity paused, before the bedroom mirror to compose herself, trying to hide the evidence of tears.

When she opened the front door, an attractive blond woman in a long tan raincoat was standing outside the apartment, next to a man in a police officer's uniform.

"Serenity Wheeler?" asked the woman.

"Yes?"

"I'm Detective Leopold, GPD." She held up a badge. "May we talk to you for a moment?"

"Well…" Serenity glanced back at the sunburst clock on the living room wall. "I was just getting ready to go to my office."

"Yes." The woman smiled. "At Price, Feinstein and Lamont. Congratulations on the becoming a partner." Her voice softened. "We'll only keep you for a minute. It's about your fiancé."

Serenity's face changed. "Come in, then."

Twenty minutes later, Serenity and the woman who had identified herself as Detective Leopold sat facing each other above a tray of steaming coffee cups in Serenity's living room. The uniformed policeman, who had said little since their arrival, wandered at the other end of the room, inspecting a collection of antique vases on a glass curio shelf.

"So you see, Serenity, we're almost certain that Rupert Dartz is planning to kill the man he now considers his prime tormentor. Unless we can somehow get to Two-Face - to Mr. Bakura - before Dartz does, he won't stand much of a chance."

Serenity nodded, her fingers unconsciously kneading the soft fabric of the sofa. "I wish I could help, but I haven't seen Ryou - not since that horrible day in the hospital when… when…" She turned to look at the wall, tears welling in her eyes again. "You'll have to excuse me, Detective Leopold. I don't usually fall apart like this. After all, it's been six months since Ryou's… reappearance. Today, for some reason, it's been rather hard to deal with."

"I quite understand." The other woman laid a comforting hand on Serenity's arm. "Look, we're going to get out of here and leave you alone in just a minute." She reached into her purse and brought forth a small paging device. "We believe there's a strong possibility that Ryou might try to see you at some point. If he does, simply activate this beeper and we'll be able to trace the signal to wherever you've gone. Remember - the sooner we locate him, the sooner he'll get the treatment he needs."

Serenity eyed the small device uncertainly. The other woman smiled and pressed it into her palm. "Your fiancé's future could be completely in your hands, Serenity."

"Yes." Serenity nodded once, then again, more resolutely. "Thank you."

The man in the police uniform tugged at the knot in his necktie as he and his companion left the apartment building. "Sheesh, I'm glad I don't wear these monkey suits regular like," Valon said as he unlocked the car door and slid into the driver's side. "What now?"

Mai leaned back against the passenger seat and smiled thinly. She gave her head a shake and combed her fingertips through her long blond hair. "Now we go back to the penthouse and wait."

Valon shook his head. "What makes you so sure Two-Face is gonna come back here?" He turned the key and started the car.

"Oh, he'll be back," Mai said as the pulled away from the curb. "Believe me, they _always_ come back."

Two minutes after the black car had left, a long, black-and-white limousine rounded the corner and glided slowly down the street toward Serenity Wheeler's apartment building. It slowed without stopping, the smoked-glass rear window lowering a few inches as the car passed in front of the apartment. A pair of mismatched eyes were barely visible inside the window, one glaring with jaundiced fury, one dark and forlorn.

The rear window rolled back up, the limousine continued quietly along the street.

~*(KC)*~

"Sixty-four seven… sixty-four eight… sixty-four nine…"

The room was dark, lit only by a tiny lamp hanging directly above the center of the circular table. Two-Face sat at the table and counted under his breath as he divided a large pile of bills into tow stacks.

"Sixty-five thousand." He pushed the shorter stack to the other side of the table. Immediately a pale hand swooped to grab the crisp bills. Two-Face reached out and snared the thin wrist in an iron grip. Rising to his feet, he twisted up his henchman's arm expertly, wrenching it up behind the other man's back.

"Oww! Min twisted in his employer's grasp. "Hey!"

"You don't touch _anything _until I tell you to, punk!" Two-Face rasped. He pushed the hoodlum away from him. "You always were a coupla greedy little - beggars - even when I prosecuted you as DA. Which reminds me-" The grotesque head turned to survey the shadows in the corner of the room. "Where's the other two?"

"Hi and Lo went out dancing with some friends," Max said from his perch on a nearby windowsill. "I told 'em we'd take their cut of the loot for 'em and hand it over later."

"And they trusted you? Two-Face shook his head in disbelief. He gave a hoarse chuckle and leaned down to sweep his own share of the money into two large satchels. "Those tow dames are even dumber than you guys. Nicer lookin', though…"

His attention was caught by something in the bottom of the bag. He reached in past the bills and plucked out a small wallet-sized photograph. Two-Face set the picture on the table with trembling fingers and stared at it. In the photo, Serenity had a sunny smile on her face, her right hand raised as if she were waving to whoever had snapped the picture. Two-Face lifted his own right hand, a strange expression on his halved countenance.

Max moved into the circle of light and elbowed his brother. The twins exchanged a glance as their boss regarded the photograph in rapt wonder.

The mismatched eyes rose to sneer at them. "What're you two gawkin' at?"

Max grinned ingratiatingly. "Gee, Two-Face, if ya miss her, why don't ya just go see her?"

"Yeah, boss," his brother chimed in. "We could even bring her here, if you wanted."

Two-Face lowered his gaze to the photo again. He reached an unsteady hand into his jacket and slowly took out the two-headed coin. He held it in his hand for a moment, his breath ragged. Then he flipped it into the air and caught it. The scarred face showed in his palm.

"Forget it," he snarled, closing his fist around the coin. "We got more important things to do." He crumpled the photo in his other hand and tossed it to the floor.

"But, boss," Min insisted, "ya know she'd be-"

"I said _forget_ it!" Two-Face roared. His hand slipped into his jacket again. There was a sharp _click_ and a gleaming double-edged knife blade rose to hover at the level of Min's chin. "Y'know, I'm getting' a little tired of seein' double when I look at you boys." The thin smile on the right side of his face twisted into an obscene leer on the left. "Maybe it's time we made one of you a little more 'distinctive.'" He waved the blade half an inch from the sweating crook's face. Min swallowed noisily. "Then it'd be a _lot_ easier to tell you apart - or don't you agree?"

Max put his hand on his brother's shoulder and eased him back from the threatening knife blade. "Uh, boss," he prompted, "you was sayin' we had more important things to do?"

"Right." Two-Face folded the knife shut and returned it to his pocket with a scornful laugh. His bisected features grew dark. "Those bungling cops let Dartz off again. We can't wait for them to do the job - it's time we finished off that fool off ourselves, once and for all."

"Oh, yeah?" Max flashed an eager grin. His brother stood off to one side and fingered his chin nervously. "You gonna knock 'im off?"

Two-Face pursed the right side of his lips, while the left dilated in a horrible grimace. "Let's just say I'm gonna do to him exactly what he did to me…"

* * *

Author's Note: Again sorry for the late update. Since my laptop is fixed and my home computer is also fixed and with summer in view, updates should be a lot sooner (I hope)… but please be patient with me I have the attention span of a hyperactive moth. In fact, I'm surprised this story has gotten this far.

Lots of Love,  
Cazuuki


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: Sorry my motivation for the story is slowly dwindling L. I'm trying hard to keep myself interested in it, but its hard to do sometimes. I really don't want to leave all of my lovely viewers with an unfinished story (that bothers me when I'm reading a story) so I'm gonna keep updating… but slowly. Sorry again!

Oh and MukashiNoHikari thanks for the review! I really appreciate it!

* * *

It was late. Dr. Ashita Crest's last patient had departed half an hour ago, and she was finishing up some paperwork before leaving the office. Her mind wandered as she sat at her desk, and she gave a small annoyance when she discovered herself rereading the same paragraph for the fourth time. Time to call it a night. She pushed back from the desk and froze.

Someone was standing in front of the window, a tall man, his face hidden by shadows.

"Who-" Then the figure moved and she saw the long black cape and the hood that obscured most of the head. She swallowed. "Good evening. You startled me."

"Good evening, Dr. Crest." His voice had a hushed, eerie quality to it. He moved into the room, a forbidding figure in black and gray as he came to stand on the other side of the antique desk. "I apologize for the intrusion, but I need your professional opinion."

The small woman nodded and motioned her visitor to a chair. He remained standing. "I half expected you to call sooner or later," she said after a moment. "How can I help you?"

"Ryou Bakura's fiancé told me that he was a patient of yours last fall. Without breaking confidentiality, I need to know what his chances are of ever regaining his sanity."

Dr. Crest tented her fingers on the desktop. "It's difficult to diagnose a patient without the proper opportunity to examine his current condition." She gestured to a pile of newspaper clippings on her bookshelf. "As you can see, I've been following the case quite closely. What we have here is a man who was severely traumatized as a child - so severely that the only way he could deal with the trauma was by developing a separate personality - literally extracting the part of himself that he felt was responsible for the trouble and locking it away where it could do no more harm." She shrugged unhappily. "Apparently the secondary personality began resurfacing from time to time, causing inexplicable outburst of temper that Ryou could never recall afterward. The outbursts had increased over the past few years, no doubt due to the stress of Ryou's job. Then there was the incident at the refinery…"

"And that's when Big Bad Kura came out for good." Batman had begun to pace slowly. "What I need to know is if Ryou's primary personality can be made to reassert itself. If someone from his past confronted him, for example - is there any chance he might be able to come back to his old self?"

"Possibly." Dr. Crest rested her chin on her fingertips. "The difficulty lies in not knowing exactly who is in charge now. Is it really the personality we knew as Big Bad Kura who's seized control? Or did a new identity emerge after the explosion and the scarring - an fusion of the two previous ones?" She played with a letter opener on her desk. "The Big Bad Kura that I encountered was a terrifying, brutal man, but in some ways he was very simplistic - like a child who'd been locked away from the world for years." She lifted one of the newspapers. "This bizarre creature who's named himself Two-Face exhibits a cleverness and a depth of intelligence that I would never have attributed to the bully called Big Bad Kura."

The Dark Knight paused and regarded her thoughtfully. "You're saying this new personality might contain parts of both of the others?"

She shrugged. "The obsession with dichotomy, the careful attention to detail - everything either split in half or multiplied by two - none of this was a part of either Ryou or Big Bad Kura before the accident."

"Does that mean that therapy designed to change Two-Face back into Ryou might backfire and bring out Big Bad Kura again?"

"We understand so little about multiple personality disorder, Mister-er, Batman. Each case is unique. I hesitate to give false hopes, but based on my previous observation of Ryou and of his will to work through his problems, I would say that there was a least fifty-fifty chance that the original personality might reassert itself - given the proper treatment. This would not mean the destruction of Big Bad Kura, merely his integration into Ryou's personality as the normal manifestation of the anger Ryou Bakura has so long suppressed."

"And the Two-Face identity?"

"It's a recent development. With luck - and especially if the physical damage is left by the accident could be dealt with - that identity might be done away with entirely. But I would guess that time is an important factor here. The longer Ryou is left untreated, the stronger hold Two-Face will assert."

Batman stroked his chin. "Thank you, Doctor. You've been very helpful." He turned to slip back into the shadows, then hesitated.

"Yes?" she prompted. "Was there something else?"

"I was wondering. You said Ryou's personality split apart as a result of childhood trauma…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Does this always happen? I mean, if a child experiences something terrible in his life…"

"Will he develop a second personality? The answer is no, not necessarily. We have many ways of coping with unpleasant experiences - multiple personality disorder is just one of them."

"But what if - later in life - this child still seems influenced by what happened to him so many years ago - influenced to the point of spending a large part of his life trying to prevent such things from happening to other people…"

Dr. Crest smiled. "Why, then I would consider that a very good outcome has occurred from what must have been a very unpleasant incident."

"But suppose he had to disguise his own identity in order to carry out this mission," the man in shadows persisted. "If a person chose to… divide his life, to create a new life in order to accomplish something he thought was important. Would that-"

"I can't answer that question without examining the subject closely," she said gently. "As a general response, I would say that as long as the person realizes that the secondary identity is just that - a mask or a cloak, rather than an independent entity - he should have no problems remaining seated in reality. If he should ever develop problems in that area, he would be welcome to discuss them in the privacy of this office."

He was silent for a few seconds. "Thank you, Doctor," he said.

"Do be careful when you go out," Dr. Crest called as he retreated into the darkness. "That window's never been right since I had it replaced several months ago." A breeze blew briefly into the office. As Dr. Crest turned back to her desk, she murmured, half to herself: "You know, the really intriguing question in that last case would be: after all these years - which one is the true identity and which one is the mask?"

~*(KC)*~

Shadows moved stealthily inside a spacious office on the thirty-fourth floor of the newly opened Kochman Tower Complex. Pebbled glass hung in jagged shards from the metal frame of the office door. One large piece lay on the thick beige carpet just inside the doorway. It had words printed on it in an elegant gilt script: E. DOUBLEDAY

ATTORNEY-AT-LAW.

Inside, the office was illuminated by a broad shaft of moonlight coming through one of the wide windows and by the narrow flashlight beams that swept the plush furnishings. File folders and papers were strewn everywhere. A tall man sat in the leather seat behind the polished teak desk and flipped through the files. Two other men used crowbars to force open the remaining locked cabinets in the adjoining file room. Moonlight fell across one side of the tall man's face in a slash of white radiance. His features seemed calm, his dark brown eye brooding on the contents of the files.

There was a grinding sound of metal being pried away from metal, then a sudden snap as a drawer gave way.

"Hey," one of the men in the other room said, "this looks like something…" Max carried a thick file folder to his brother. Min was swaying slowly as he leafed through a sheaf of papers. Raucous music leaked from the earphones clasped tightly to his head. Max tapped his twin on the shoulder and pointed to the other man's flashlight. Still moving to the beat, Min shone his light on the folder's label.

"'Rupert Dartz/Confidential,'" Max read. He left the room and approached the man in the leather chair. "Hey, Two-Face-"

"Gimme that!" The tall man snatched the folder from his hireling's grasp. He leaned forward, the strip of moonlight shifting to the other side of his face as he read. Max flinched away from the madness in the staring red eye, the hideous curl of the leering mouth.

"For _years_ I tried to subpoena this." Two-Face flipped through the file with shaking fingers, devouring the contents with his mismatched eyes. "Money laundering, payoffs, blackmail - it's all here!" He spun around and rose from the chair to stand framed by the wide window. The Domino skyline clawed at the night behind him. "I'll destroy Dartz with his file," he rasped exultantly, "just like he destroyed me with mine!"

"Uh, boss, can we get outta here?" Max edged toward the shattered office door. "We been hangin' around a pretty long time. It might be a good idea to hit the road before somebody noti-"

Part of the blackness beyond the doorway detached itself and stepped forward over the jagged glass. Max lurched back in shock, reaching for his revolver. Before the gun was halfway out of its holster, a black-gloved hand had snatched it from his fingers and tossed it contemptuously into the hallway. Max hauled back his arm, deciding to put everything he had into one tremendous roundhouse punch. Unfortunately for him, by the time the blow landed, its intended recipient had stepped smoothly to one side. Max howled in pain as his hand slammed into the plasterboard six inches to the right of the gaping door. The intruder delivered a quick right cross, and the thug fell heavily forward onto the carpet.

Batman turned and extended his hand to Two-Face, who stood frozen at the window, silhouetted by the moonlight. "You're coming with me, Ryou." The costumed crime fighter took a step toward the other man.

Two-Face bolted, trying to dodge past Batman out the door. The Dark Knight stepped into his path and Two-Face fell back with a cry. "I want to help you," Batman told him.

"_Help_ me?" Two-Face sneered in disbelief. "You don't know anything about me - what makes you think I need your help?"

"I know you have friends, Ryou. Friends who love you and care about you and want to see you well again."

Two-Face groped behind him on the broad desk. The fingers of his left hand closed on a small metal lamp with a curving shade of green glass. "Good Little Ryou's friends are no friends of mine," he grated. He raised the lamp over his head.

Batman stood his ground. "What about Serenity?" he asked softly.

Two-Face jumped as if jolted by electricity. "Serenity…?" The unscarred right side of his face moved forward into the moonlight. He looked stunned as he lowered the lamp to the desktop. "What do you know about Serenity?" he whispered, his voice shedding its guttural rasp.

"She still loves you, Ryou." Batman moved closer, looking the confused criminal squarely in the eye. "She keeps your picture. Every day she waits - and hopes."

The man in the moonlight swallowed. He had the mournful look of a little lost boy. Batman slowly extended his hand again. "She wants you back, Ry. We all do."

As Ryou slowly lifted his own right hand, Min burst through the door, gun drawn, just in case there was trouble. "Hey, what's taking you guys…" The Dark Knight was momentarily distracted by the intrusion, and suddenly found himself staring down the barrel of Min's gun.

In that instant, Two-Face ducked back into the shadows again. An evil sneer grew on the left side of his face as he lifted the lamp high and brought it down hard on Batman's hooded skull. The Dark Knight fell forward onto the carpet and lay there groaning.

"Boss, let's get _outta _here! C'mon, Max-" Min helped his groggy brother to stand and the trio slipped through the broken doorway and into the hall. Gasping in pain, Batman crawled to his feet and stumbled after them. He gained energy as he pounded down the hallway, his head beginning to clear. Rounding a corner, he leaped for the fleeing Two-Face, tackling the smaller man about the waist and bringing him down to the floor with a heavy crash.

"Ryou," he gasped urgently, "I'm your friend!"

Two-Face squirmed desperately in the other's grasp. "Let _go _of me!" he roared. He planted his foot in the center of the Dark Knight's chest and shoved with all his might. Batman tumbled backward, crashing heavily into a janitor's cart lade with mops and buckets.

~*(KC)*~

Batman lay there for a long time, swimming in and out of consciousness. After what seemed like days he heard a soft inhalation and felt someone's hands pulling him free of the tangle of cleaning supplies. "Hey there, Mr. Batman. You okay?"

He opened his eyes to a broad, wrinkled face. The elderly woman watched him with concern as she righted a bucket and picked up one of the mops. "Looks like you took one very nasty fall there."

He looked around, trying to get his bearings in the darkened hallway. "Ryou… where's Ryou?"

Dark eyes blinked in the wrinkled face. The woman turned to glance up and down the corridor. "Nobody here but you and me."

Batman pulled himself to his knees, the rose slowly to his feet. Suddenly he clutched at his ribs and doubled over with a sharp gasp.

The janitor supported him with firm, gentle hands until he was able to stand by himself. "You all right now?"

"Yes…" He grimaced, pressing his hand against his injured side. "I'm fine."

"Here." The woman bent and retrieved something from the carpeted floor. "Looks like you dropped this." She handed him a matchbook with a shiny foil cover. Batman raised it to his eyes and examined the logo on the front. It was a picture of a playing card. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. The Two of Hearts…

* * *

Author's Note: Poor Seto, he got all beated up. L On the other hand: How rude, Seto! You could've at least thanked the woman. She's like super old and helping you stand up and all you do is say "I'm fine." Roland taught you better.

Sorry for the late update, but I really haven't had much motivation. The only thing really keeping me going right now is the promise of Yugi (I absolutely adore him J). Other than that… nothing.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: I just re-read all the comments on this story… and I feel uber pumped now for some reason. I just hope it keeps going ;P Oh, and Mana returns in this chappie! (I love her so much) Plus, slight!Yami x Mana

Anyway, here's the 15th chapter of Dual to the Death.

* * *

The slender shadow leaped and spun past the lighted basement window. Inside, the basement had been outfitted as a small gymnasium. A young woman in a leaf-green leotard practiced her routine on a balance beam in the center of the matted floor, while lively strains of Mozart issued from a portable cassette player. A set of uneven parallel bars stood to one side. The young woman was barefoot and her medium-length, blond hair was tied up in a bun at the nape of her neck. As she executed the last of a flawless trio of cartwheels on the narrow beam, she spoke to the purple-haired man who stood at the foot of the basement stairs, watching her in open admiration.

"Y'know, Dad, if you and Yami keep nailing bad guys like this" - she slid smoothly into a back walkover - "people are gonna start thinking you two are Batman and Robin." She concluded with a back tuck that brought her an inch away from the end beam.

"What can I say?" Commissioner Mahado Gordon moved to his daughter's side and lifted a hand to help her down. "Yami is a godsend - whoa!" He ducked as Mana did a front tuck neatly over his head, landing behind him with a mischievous smile on her attractive face. She did a last cartwheel to the cassette player and switched off the music.

Shaking his head, Mahado handed his daughter a towel.

"Thanks." Mana wiped the perspiration from her face, then grabbed a pair of worn gray sweatpants from the banister. She draped them around her neck as the two started up the stairs. "And you know," the commissioner stated, "he's not bad looking, either…"

"Really?" Mana said, her face expressing exaggerated puzzlement. "Hmmm, I don't think I've ever noticed."

Her father snorted and swatted her lightly with the towel. "All right, all right," he said. "None of my business…"

"Honestly, Dad. I finally get you to stop treating me like a kid and now you're trying to marry me off. It was like only one dinner." Mana held the door for her father at the top of the stairs. The two went into the living room, where the commissioner switched on a table lamp by the sofa while his daughter collapsed into an easy chair.

"Hey, don't think I didn't see the two of you at that fund-raiser last week. You were thick as thieves," Mahado said. "You know, you could do much worse. Yami's got a great future ahead of him with the department."

The doorbell rang before Mana could reply, and Mahado headed to answer it. When he opened the door, deputy commissioner Yami Mason was standing on the front steps.

"Yami!" Mahado gave his deputy a big smile. "Speak of the devil - we were just talking about you." He stepped back from the doorway. "Come in! Come in!"

Two uniformed officers stood on the steps behind Yami. They followed him reluctantly as he entered the hallway.

Mana had slipped into her sweatpants. She looked up as she tied the drawstring. "Hey, Yami. Excuse the evening wear. What's up?"

"A business call, by the looks of it." Mahado looked back and forth from Yami to the two officers. "What is it, Yami? Another tip on a case from our mysterious informant?"

Yami stood in the living room doorway, his eyes downcast. He ran his fingers through his tri-colored hair. "Believe me, Mahado, I don't want to be here." He took a deep breath. "But I thought it would be best coming from me."

"What would?" Mahado was baffled. "What's wrong?"

Yami squared his shoulders and reached inside his coat. He unfolded an official-looking document and cleared his throat. "Mahado Gordon, I have a warrant for your arrest."

The two officers moved quietly to stand on either side of the bewildered commissioner.

"This is a joke, right? Yami?" As the commissioner studied his deputy's downcast face. Mana slid between the nearest officer and her father. She slipped her hand into her father's and squeezed. "What are the charges?" she asked Yami calmly.

He looked across the room to the curtained windows, avoiding her gaze. "Accepting bribes," he said softly.

"What!" Mahado took an angry step toward Yami. The officers restrained him gently. "Yami, you can't be serious!"

Mana marched up to Yami, who held the warrant out to her. She snatched it angrily from his hand and snapped it open.

"The department has reason to believe you've been taking money from Rupert Dartz, Mahado," Yami said while Mana read the document. "For years. They see this release as one more example that he's got you in his pocket."

"Dad has never taken a bribe in his life!" Mana hurled the warrant to the carpet, her voice trembling with outrage. Yami bent stiffly and retrieved it, returning it slowly to his coat pocket. He turned to the commissioner. "I'm sorry, sir." He cleared his throat again. "You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that right, anything you say-"

Mahado raised his hand. "I know my right, Yami." Stonefaced, he allowed the officers to snap handcuffs on his wrists and lead him out of the house. A mob of reporters converged on them as they headed for the squad car. Flashbulbs exploded like bursts of gunfire.

"Dad!" Mana stood on the porch, an anguished look on her face.

Mahado paused at the door of his squad car and looked back at his daughter. "Don't worry, Mana," he called to her. "It's all a mistake - you'll see." An officer guided him into the car and shut the door.

Yami had lingered by the steps. "I'm sorry, Mana." He gave a helpless shrug. "I really am." As he walked to the squad car the reporters turned their attention to Mana. She flinched under the snapping flashbulbs and shrank back into the house as the car bearing her father pulled away.

~*(KC)*~

Seto Kaiba lowered himself carefully into his seat at the head of the long table in the Kaiba Manor dining room. Beneath his silk bathrobe, his ribs were confined by a tight layer of white, surgical tape. Seto winced slightly as he reached for a tall glass of grapefruit juice. He took a long sip of the tart liquid and unfolded his morning newspaper.

"_What_?" He set his glass heavily on the tablecloth and stared incredulously at the front page. The huge photo of Police Commissioner Mahado Gordon being led away beneath a banner headline: COMMISSIONER MAHADO ARRESTED.

Seto scanned the accompanying story, then crumpled the paper and flung it down the larg table, narrowly missing an elegant flower arrangement. "We'll see about this!" he declared, charging out of the cavernous room past Roland.

"Do watch those ribs, sir," the butler said somberly. "We only have one roll of tape left."

~*(KC)*~

The ancient floorboard creaked and complained as Mana Gordon walked rapidly down the long main hallway of the Domino City courthouse. Several paces ahead of her was a woman with a bulging briefcase and no-nonsense expression on her suntanned face.

"But you're the DA, Ishizu! You've worked with my father! Ishizu-" District Attorney Ishizu Ishtar had a short temper and rather long legs. Mana found herself hurrying to keep up with the older woman. "Surely there must be _something _you can-"

"The evidence is solid, Mana." The DA swung around to stare sternly at the younger woman. "Money deposited to your father's name in laundered accounts, witnesses who swear they saw him take bribes-"

"That's not sufficient cause to deny him bail!"

"True," Ishizu conceded. "But we also found deposit receipts for a South American bank, and a plane ticket to Rio de Janeiro - a one-way plane ticket. The older woman shrugged. "We have no choice but to consider him a flight risk."

"This is _crazy_!" Mana fought to control her voice, conscious of the curious stares of passerby. "My father would never-"

"Mana." Ishizu's tone was icy. "Maybe you don't know your father as well as you think you do." She glanced at her wristwatch and looked down the hall. "Maybe none of us do. And now you'll have to excuse me. I'm du in court."

Mana stood with her hands clenched at her sides and watched the district attorney retreat down the long corridor. She remembered seeing a movie once where a man had punched a hold in the wall with his fist. For the first time, she could almost understand that sort of behavior.

"Hey, kid." The voice at her back was gruff and familiar. "Don'tcha believe her." Mana turned to see Detective Tristan Taylor standing behind her. The unkempt policeman was wearing his usual stained and tattered trench coat, and a well-chewed toothpick protruded from the corner of his mouth. "Your pop's the best there is." He lifted his unshaven chin and spat the fragment of wood in the direction of the DA. "The department knows that, even if the DA's office don't - and that's why the department's puttin' on a rally for 'im tomorrow night."

"A rally?" Mana's mood brightened. "That's a _wonderful _idea!"

"Yeah." Tristan looked off to the side. "Wish I could say it was mine?"

Mana turned to follow the detective's gaze and saw Yami Mason standing in the doorway of a nearby office. The young man walked hesitantly out into the corridor. "Just because I have a job to do doesn't mean I'm not a hundred percent on Mahado's side - and yours." He reached for her hands and gazed earnestly into her eyes. "I'm going to see your dad gets all the public support we can muster."

Tristan inserted a fresh toothpick between his teeth. "All the top cops'll be there, includin' yours truly," he said. "So don't worry your pretty little head. It should be quite a show."

"I'm sure it will be…" Mana looked off in sudden inspiration. "And I know someone who'd be quite a showstopper - _if _I can get him." She looked at the two men with a determined glint in her eye. "Gentlemen, this is the first time all morning that I've felt better than miserable - and I have you to thank for it. How about an early lunch on me?" She linked arms with the two and led them off down the corridor.

* * *

Author's Note: Uh, oh! What does Mana have planned? Lol The story should start picking up from here and Yugi will be here in another couple chapters. *bouncing with excitement* I just can't wait!

~*(Cazuuki)*~


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: Yugi! Yugi! Yugi! I really can't wait until he arrives…

* * *

The dark shape moved soundlessly along rows of metal shelves behind a wire mesh gate. An enameled sign fixed to the mesh read: EVIDENCE LOCKER: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

The shelves held a dozen pawnshops' worth of assorted items, including televisions, luggage, and firearms of all shapes and sizes. Several rows were devoted to plastic envelopes containing papers of one sort or another. A black-gloved hand followed a narrow pencil beam of light to grasp a particular envelope and remove it from the shelf.

Batman opened the envelope carefully and extracted a small bundle of paper. His eyes narrowed as he inspected first a series of canceled checks, each with Mahado Gordon's signature on the back, and then an airline ticket made out to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. The Dark Knight looked up at the sound of a soft footstep.

A uniformed officer selected a key from a wide ring containing about a dozen, pushed it into the lock on the mesh gate, and swiveled it to the right. Pushing the gate open, she entered the evidence locker and subjected the area to a casual inspection with her flashlight. As the yellow cone of light swept the upper shelves, it just missed catching the drape of black fabric disappearing up a narrow ventilator shaft in the ceiling of the room. A second later a worn metal grid was silently lowered into place at the shaft's opening. The officer stifled a yawn, made a final sweep with her flashlight, and exited through the mesh gate. Pausing to lock the gate securely behind her, she yawned again and headed whistling down the dark hall.

~*(KC)*~

The cells of the Domino City jail were located three stories above the basement-level evidence locker. Wan lights shone from several of the barred windows as Batman swung on a narrow line to land noiselessly on a fire escape clinging to the brick wall of the abandoned kaleidoscope works located behind the jail. He straightened on the grid of rusted metal, cape billowing in the wind. The blue eyes behind the black mask scanned the building across the narrow alley. His gloved hand emerged from the cape, carrying something that suggested a futuristic handgun. Batman aimed carefully at one of the lighted cells and pressed the trigger. With a hiss of compressed air, a small device shaped like a scalloped black wing streaked across the alleyway.

Inside cell 21, prisoner Mahado Gordon paced slowly, his head bowed in thought, his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his county-issue grays. He looked up, startled, as the small black wing shot between the close-set bars of his window and smacked against the opposite wall, where it remained, quivering slightly.

Mahado stepped over to the wall and stared up at the small device. A transceiver. He smiled thinly. "I was wondering when you'd get around to me," he said softly.

"I got a look at the evidence." The voice that issued from the batlike machine was deep and husky, with an eerie quality to it that Mahado always found a touch unsettling. "I don't think Dartz's behind this. Those deposits were perfect forgeries, dated months ago."

Mahado squinted out through the cell window as he listened, barely able to discern the dim shape on the fire escape. "Not Dartz?" he said. "Then who-"

Across the alley, the Dark Knight cupped on hand to his ear and held a small microphone to his lips with another. "Word on the street is a new syndicate may be trying to move in. Could be a connection. I'm also planning a little visit out to Arkham. There's just a chance one of our friends up there could be pulling the strings. I'll check it out."

"Thanks. Turn up anything new on Two-Face?" Mahado asked.

"That can wait," Batman said firmly. "You're my priority right now." He leaned back, blending seamlessly into the shadows of the night as a squad car rolled by the end of the alley. "Anything you need?"

Mahado stood in silence for a few moments as a guard strolled down the corridor past his cell. "Yes," he whispered. "Check on Mana for me. And keep her out of this, will you?"

When no reply came, he turned back to the window and narrowed his eyes at the outline of the fire escape. It was empty.

~*(KC)*~

"But you _have _to come to the rally tomorrow night." Mana Gordon's face was flushed with emotion as she pleaded with the figure who stood framed in the open French doors. Outside, the backyard was washed in pale moonlight. "The public respects you. If they see you there - even for a few minutes - they'll _know _Dad's innocent!"

The eyeslits in the dark mask seemed to narrow as Batman took a step backward. "Sorry, but there's more to this than a simple frame-up. And I'm not going to find out what's behind it by appearing at pep rallies."

Mana gave a sigh of frustration. "But don't you see how-"

"Mana, listen to me. The best thing you can do for your father is to stay out of it. The people behind this are dangerous." Without another word, the Dark Knight turned and melted into the night.

Mana walked to the French doors and searched the shadows, furious. There was nothing but the wind, lifting and pulling at the long dark curtains. "Right," she said under her breath. "I'm a professional, kids, don't try this at home." She shook her head in disgust. "Sorry, Batman. Your appearance at the rally could help decide if Dad goes free. So you're _going _to be there." She stood staring out into the darkness, the wind billowing the curtains behind her like a shadowy cape. "One way or another…"

~*(KC)*~

The Dark Knight left the office of the director of the Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane with a thoughtful look on his face. He took the long route to the outside, passing through a section lined with specially constructed cells required to hold some of the institution's more unusual inhabitants. His review of the director's files had accomplished little, except to virtually eliminate the possibility that the mysterious figure behind the attack on Mahado's good name was based at the asylum. The watch logs confirmed that there had been no recent breakouts, while every inmate on Batman's list had been accounted for - their behavior carefully monitored and their access to the outside world restricted - leaving little chance that one of Mahado's enemies could be controlling the frame-up from his or her cell.

Batman ignored the insults and catcalls that followed him as he strode down the long corridor, his eyes fixed on the far exit door and his mind sifting through the remaining possibilities.

"Batman?" He was almost past her cell when the soft voice stopped him in his tracks. "Is he going to be all right?"

The Dark Knight moved slowly to the reinforced glass window.

The woman who stood on the other side had short hair the color of melted chocolate. She was dressed in shades of green, rendering her nearly invisible in the dimly lit cell, which was crowded with plants and vines of every description. Her bright glance wavered under his stare, returned.

"Will Ryou Bakura be all right?" Her voice was the quiet whisper of wind through an ancient forest. "You know, he and I went out a few times before he took up with that lawyer. It seems like such a very long time ago." She stroked the leaves of a tall potted fern with one hand as she spoke. "Things certainly do have a way of changing, don't they?"

"Tea-"

She lifted a finger. "Ivy," she corrected him. "I told you, things have changed."

"And sometimes they can change back to the way they were," the man in the black mask said. "If we want them to. I'm hoping that's what will happen to Ryou." He paused. "And with you."

She reached for a leaf-studded vine and draped it loosely around her pale throat, retreating slightly into the miniature jungle. "Ryou always seemed so big and strong," she mused. "My oak, I called him." She gave a bitter laugh. "He should have been more flexible. A willow can survive a bad storm, you know. But a strong wind will tear an oak out of the ground - or break it in tow." She cocked her head at him. "You're looking a little broken right now yourself."

"I'm thinking about the ones I haven't been able to save, Tea," he said after a long moment. "I don't want there to be any more of them."

"Forget the past." She lifted her hand from the fern and pressed her small palm against the thick pane that separated them. "Visit me again," she whispered. "Come back inside and stay for a while. Give us both something to look forward to."

He lifted his gloved hand to the glass opposite her bare palm. "I don't think that would be a very good idea," he told her.

"But it's what you need," she said. "It's very cold out there in the world, and I keep it quite warm in here." She gestured with her other hand to the green darkness behind her. "You can't say you haven't thought about it."

Batman said nothing. Finally the woman in green gave a short nod and lowered her fingers to the fern again. "I understand," she said, peering at him through the glass with a small, distant smile. "Bird's still got you tongue, hasn't he? Maybe some things don't change, after all…"

* * *

Author's Note: He's coming next chapter… I'm SO excited (and I'm not even reading this lol) Keep an eye out for him and the SetoxYugi moments (they are very brief… but there).

~*(Cazuuki)*~


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: This is what we've all been waiting for… the fashionably late Yugi finally appears… I'm so excited that I'm literally bouncing while writing this :P

* * *

The room was dark. A telephone was ringing.

Through the dusty pane of the single huge window set high in one wall, the urban decay of South Domino was clearly visible. Fire-gutted husks of buildings, mounds of fallen masonry, and unidentified debris combined to create a war-zone effect under the smog-hazed moon. Old newspapers blew like tumbleweed past graffiti-covered walls, collected in boarded-up storefronts. Sirens wailed in the distance, while on the other side often window, inside the room, the telephone jangled urgently.

There was the sound of someone fumbling with a key in the rusted keyhole, then the door swung open and a small, boyish figure scurried inside. "Ow!" An ankle collided with a footstool. A round of cursing followed as the slight figure searched the top of a cluttered table for the phone. "Ah!" The jangling noise cut off as the receiver was yanked from its cradle. "Yeah?"

The figure listened for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, it's me, chief. Slug and me was just out gettin' somethin' ta eat."

A second shape loomed in the doorway, as broad and towering as the first had been diminutive. A massive hand closed over a switch inside the door. The next moment the room was flooded with yellow light. "Hey, Birdy," rumbled the huge man in the doorway. "Was it the tele-"

"_Hsst _- shuddup!" The small woman covered the mouthpiece of the phone with a bony hand and glared at her giant companion. "I got the chief on the line." She uncovered the receiver and nodded earnestly. Her voice was high and piping. "Yeah, chief, I know, but we was hungry. You know Slug's appetite. No, chief, it won't happen again. Right. The rally's tomorrow night. It's all in place. Right. We know what ta do, chief - you can count on us. Uh, have a nice night-" She pulled the phone away from her ear with a grimace as a loud click sounded from the earpiece, then gingerly reseated it on its base.

Birdy ran her fingers through her short brown hair and turned to the hulking man. He was carrying a large white bag decorated with red lettering under his arm. "The chief says we're all set for tomorrow night." A sinister grin split her thin face. "We're supposed ta add a little pep ta the rally."

"Heh." Slug moved ponderously to the table and set down the package. "Sounds like fun." He opened the top of the white sack and peered inside, licking his lips in anticipation. "Which you want, Birdy- a wing or a drumstick?"

~*(KC)*~

Roland gave a small sigh and set aside his duster. Forty-five more seconds and he would have been able to complete his task. He descended the stepladder reluctantly, his eye on the antique cuckoo clock. Whoever was ringing the front doorbell was quiet insistent, however, and it wouldn't do for Master Seto to be disturbed. As Roland exited the upstairs gallery, he glanced over his shoulder just in time to see a miniature doorway fly open in the face of the clock. A tiny painted bird popped out and called mockingly to him. He could almost see the thin layer of dust on the cuckoo's small round head. Roland sighed again and continued on his way.

The butler reached out to make a minute adjustment to a portrait of Seto Kaiba's great-grandfather as he started down the winding stair, used his sleeve to eradicate a thumbprint located halfway down the polished mahogany banister, and paused to smooth out a tiny wrinkle in the Turkish rug at the base of the steps.

He swung back the huge front door and nodded politely. "Good evening, sir," he said to the man who waited there. "May I help you?"

"You sure can, Pops." The stranger's words were distorted by what appeared to be a world-class wad of chewing tobacco. He was a large man, dressed in gray coveralls, with the broad-shouldered look of a linebacker. He was carrying a clipboard in his grimy hands, and he wore a blue baseball cap with the emblem of the Domino Knights pulled low over his straw-colored hair. A small photo ID was pinned to the front of his rumpled uniform. "Your name Kaiba?" He scratched the side of his rather prominent nose. "Seto Kaiba?"

"No, sir. I am his butler. How may I help you?"

"Butler!" The man stopped chewing to gape incredulously at Roland. "Jeez, I didn't know they still made them animals." He flashed a gap-toothed grin. "No offense, Pops. Look - I'm with the gas company. We gotta problem with one of the mains in this area." He tilted the clipboard in Roland's direction for a few seconds. "Kaiba Manor, right? We gotta have access to the basement. Chances are, we're gonna have to do some major excavating."

"I rather doubt that, sir." Roland looked down his narrow nose at the man. "Our gas lines were replaced quite recently by a private contractor, with all the work cleared through the city zoning board. The chance of any serious problem with them seems overwhelmingly minute."

"Yeah, well, that's for me to figger out, ain't it?" The big-shouldered man took a determined step into the foyer. His heavy boots were caked in grayish mud. "Let's suppose you just lead me to the basement and let me take a look around."

Roland stepped back as the man strode into the house. "If you wish, Master Yugi - though I daresay you'd be more comfortable if you removed those cumbersome boots." He made a small bow in the direction of the main hallway. "If you wish to pay your respects to Master Seto on the way, you can find him in the Batcave."

The big man froze in astonishment. Then turned to the butler with a sigh. Raising a handkerchief to his mouth, he spat out a giant wad of purple bubble gum.

"It's never gonna happen, is it, Roland?" Without the chewing gum, his voice sounded clearer and much younger. "I'm never gonna put one over on you." He reached up and pulled the baseball cap off with his right hand, then removed the tangle of blond hair with his left. He gave his own head of tri-colored hair a defeated shake.

"No, Master Yugi, you never will," Roland said matter-of-factly. He closed the massive door and extended his hands as the young man began peeling off the rest of his disguise. Following the cap and wig came a nose and cheekbones a pair of blue-gray contact lenses, false teeth, some padded shoulders, and an artificial paunch. Last to be removed was the pair of extremely built-up boots.

"There is some orangeade in the kitchen," the butler offered. "I shall join you as soon as I deposited your accoutrements in the nearest airtight container."

"Thanks, Roland." The dispirited youth, now wearing a tank top and a pair of brightly patterned shorts, padded barefoot down the long hallway.

~*(KC)*~

"I stuck the rest of my stuff out of sight behind the front hedge," Yugi Mutou said. "Remind me to go bring it in before it gets rained on or anything." He pushed his high wooden stool back from the kitchen table and teetered expertly on two legs.

"I have already retrieved your luggage, Master Yugi, and taken it to your bedroom." Roland set a tray bearing an ice-filled glass and a large pitcher of orange liquid on the table. "It seemed logical that you would have secreted it somewhere in the vicinity of the front door."

"Is there anything you can't figure out, Roland?" Yugi asked ruefully. He stretched out a thin wiry arm and poured himself a glass of orangeade. "We oughtta take a trip to Las Vegas someday. We'd clean up big-time."

"I approve of gambling for profit no more than Master Seto does," Roland retorted primly. "I prefer to earn my pay with honest labor."

"And earn it you do, Roland," came a deep voice from the kitchen doorway. "In every way from exemplary cooking and cleaning to keeping the house free of bogus gas men. Seto Kaiba entered the kitchen and gave Yugi a soft kiss on the back of his neck. "Nice try, Yugi. How was merry old England?"

"Yo, Seto!" Yugi took a long sip of his drink and beamed up at the older man. "Joey and I had a totally great time - although I think my roommate the touchdown king was a little bummed when he told people he was a quarterback and they looked at him like he'd said he was vice-chancellor of Neptune. Our British history professor, Miss Sullivan, took us to the Stonehenge for our last class. Have you ever scoped that spot?" He shook his head in wonderment. "It was awesome, man - it blew me away!"

Roland produced a second tall glass and set it on the table in front of Seto. "A pity you didn't take advantage of your stay in that country to practice the language," he observed with a small sniff."

"Practice the… Roland, they speak _English_ over-" Yugi paused, his face reddening as Seto gave a soft chuckle and gently rubbed his shoulder against his boyfriend's. "Oh, I get it. Very funny, old bean."

Roland shook his head in despair. "Master Seto, I shall be in the upstairs gallery if you require anything. I would be most grateful if you would refrain from summoning me either just before or just after the hour strikes." He gave Yugi a glance of mock severity as he lifted his feather duster and exited the room. "Old bean, indeed."

"So what's been going on here on the home front? And how's the old rib cage?" Yugi asked Seto when they were alone in the kitchen. "Roland told me about your run-in with Two-Face in his last phone call. Any leads yet?"

"None to speak of. I came across a matchbook recently that looked promising, but the address on it was for a building that burned down last year."

Yugi's face darkened as Seto pulled out a stool next to his. "I think what happened to Ryou Bakura is really lousy. I mean, he was one of you best friends." He shuddered. "You think you know someone real well, then suddenly something happens and they turn into a total stranger. Makes you wonder…"

"I'm going to make sure Ryou gets the help he needs," Seto said with determination. "But in the meantime, there's another matter that needs our attention." He shot the younger man a rather seductive look. "Unless, of course you've got a case of jet lag and would rather turn in early."

"Are you kidding?" Yugi leaned closer to the blue-eyed man with a soft smile. "It's been months. I've been aching for some action."

Seto pressed his forehead to rest against Yugi's and pointed to the door. "Then let's get to it," he said, "but then we haveanother _batty _issue to deal with."

~*(KC)*~

The man who stood beneath the Batcave's vaulted room, several hours later, was tall, with the look of a prizefighter gone to seed. His lank hair was blond, and pale stubble blurred his jaw line. An old scar crossed on cheekbone. He lifted a false blond mustache and applied it carefully to his upper lip. "There." He adjusted the collar of his threadbare jacket and moved into the light. "How do I look?"

"Seedy. Nondescript." The younger man who stood watching him wore a dramatic costume of red and green, with a short black cape and a domino mask to cover his eyes. He gave a small sigh. "Why does this stuff always look so much more convincing on you than on me?"

The big man set a gray cap on his head and gave it a slight tilt to the left. "They key is to not deviate too much from your true appearance, Robin. Mix the real with the false. Your aim is to go unnoticed, if at all possible." He ran his fingers down the scarred cheekbone. "And if people _do _notice you, give them something easy to remember - a scar or some other obvious feature, to prevent them from taking the time to recall what you really look like."

Robin stood in front of the tall man with a look of frustration. He reached out to tilt the gray hat to the other side. "But, Seto-"

"Matches." The man pulled a slender kitchen match from a side pocket and stuck it in the corner of his mouth. "Matches Malone."

"Okay - Matches. I still don't see why I can't be in on this. If you don't want me to come along, will you at least wear a transceiver?" He wore a concerned expression on his face as he held up a tiny black device shaped like the wing of a bat. "Then I can monitor your movements from here, in case-"

"No. Too easy to detect." Matches gave the cap a tug to the left.

"Look." Robin faced the older man squarely. "I've been looking forward to some action all the way from Piccadilly Circus. School's over. Summertime's here. I might as well be up at Domino State sleeping through summer classes, as sitting here on my butt in the Batcave while you go out and make the streets safe for democracy." He reached out and gave the cap another pat to the right. "There has to be _something_ I can do."

"There is." Matches restored the cap to its original position and stepped back. "Do you make public appearances?"

"Public…?" Robin looked confused for a moment. Then his face lit up with a smile. "Absolutely!" he said.

~*(KC)*~

A large crowd had gathered in the square that fronted the Domino police headquarters. Supporters of the commissioner milled about on the wide steps, placards that proclaimed his innocence held high. At the top of the steps was a hastily constructed podium wired with microphones. A large banner had been hung above the podium. It read: MAHADO GORDON DESERVES BAIL!

Spotlights illuminated the scene as the official start time approached. Vivian Wong and her television crew vied with other representatives of local TV news to conduct interviews with the participants before the program commenced.

"Is there a reason for the small turnout of uniformed officers?" Vivian asked Domino mayor. "We'd been led to expect a much larger show of support from the commissioner's own men and women."

"And you'll be seeing one shortly, Vivian," he assured her smoothly/ "Deputy Commissioner Yami's informed me that the bulk of our hardworking officers are on the other side of town attending to a sudden rash of bomb threats targeting the new venetian blind factory. As soon as it's been verified that there's nothing behind the threats, they'll be on their way back in force to join the rally." He raised his eyebrows. "Obviously the work of some criminals who'd rather not see Commissioner Mahado exonerated!"

Yami Mason was the first speaker. The deputy commissioner opened the rally to rousing cheers, delivering an eloquent testimonial to the commissioner's ongoing contribution to law enforcement in the city. Behind the podium several other guest speakers awaited their turns, including the mayor, Officer Renee Montoya, and Detective Tristan Taylor.

"After all Mahado Gordon has done for Domino City, the least this city can do for him is grant him bail!" Yami concluded, pounding the podium with his fist.

The crowd shouted their approval.

On a nearby rooftop, Robin prepared to make his entrance. He had decided on an abbreviated acrobatic routine to get the crowd's attention - something exciting without being too flashy. After all, he was representing both himself and Batman at this shindig. He licked the palm of his hand and smoothed down a particularly defiant cowlick. Then he tightened his utility belt and drew his green gloves. "Show time," he murmured under his breath. He lifted his grappling gun and aimed at the grotesque head of a gargoyle high on police HG. His finger was tightening on the trigger when the crowd suddenly broke into a clamor of whistles and excited exclamations.

"Hey, look!"

"It's _him_!"

"Look up there!"

"He's really here!"

"Huh?" Robin scanned the crowd in surprise. They were looking away from him, at something that was happening on the other side of the square. As Robin's jaw dropped in amazement, a familiar gray-and-black figure swung into the spotlight beams and crossed the square on a slender cable. A forward tuck and roll ended with a perfect landing on top of police headquarters. Robin blinked. The billowing cape blurred the silhouette of the newcomer, who stood in a dramatic pose with legs spread and fists on thighs.

The onlookers gawked and pointed. "Hurray for Batman!" someone cried. "I knew he'd come!"

"_He _knows Mahado's innocent," a woman shouted from the middle of the throng. "That's good enough for me!" came a response from another quarter. Others cheered their agreement.

"Seto?" Robin squinted up in puzzlement from his vantage point. "What in-"

On the speaker's podium, Detective Tristan Taylor looked up at the dramatic figure with a sneer of disgust. He rubbed his recently shaved chin and gnawed on his trademark toothpick. "Grandstandin' psycho!" he muttered.

There was a burst of enthusiastic applause as the costumed figure swung away from the searchlights and disappeared into the night. Once outside public view, the caped interloper swooped behind the headquarters building, released the slender line with a double somersault, and came lightly to ground in an empty alley alongside the building.

"Touchdown…" murmured a soft voice as the figure straightened. In the light from a nearby streetlamp, it was obvious that there was something a bit odd about the heroic silhouette.

Reaching up and under the billowing cape, Mana Gordon tugged wads of padding loose from the shoulders of the makeshift costume. Then she bent down to detach several inches of lifts from the bottom of high black boots. She stood up and smiled with satisfaction at the faint cheers still audible from the onlookers on the other side of the building. "And the crowd goes wild!" she said to herself.

Mana ran lightly to a nearby parked car and reached for the door handle. She stopped in mid-motion when she heard the wild screeching of automobile tires. She wheeled around and dashed to the corner of the building, staring wide-eyed at what she saw.

The crowd in the square was scattering, the guests behind the podium milling about in confusion, as a battered-looking blue sedan whipped out of a side street and hurtled directly toward the speakers' platform.

Mana's gaze darted back to the car as the front passenger window opened and a machine-gun barrel extended menacingly. The gun opened fire as the sedan zoomed past the podium, bullets raking the gaily decorated platform. The guest speakers scattered in panic. Screams mingled with the shouts of officers as gunfire shattered one often giant spotlights. The other light was knocked off balance by a stray bullet. It began to revolve fitfully, causing a weird strobe effect that lit the square like the nightmare sequence from a low-budget movie.

Mana bit her bottom lip. Taking a deep breath, she raced out of the alley and launched herself into a series of forward handsprings.

The car had begun to fishtail widely at the edge of the panicked crowd, its brakes and tires shrieking as its driver fought for control. The driver gunned the engine and headed out of the square.

Mana used her momentum of her last handspring to leap high into the air. She snagged the huge banner hanging above the square and brought it fluttering down with her, an eerie sight in the strobing spotlight. Mana landed heavily on the pavement and sprawled forward on all fours. The banner continued to fall, draping itself across the windshield of the fleeing sedan. The car swerved blindly and crashed into a fire hydrant on the corner. Water erupted in a tall geyser.

Robin had fired his batline at the appearance of the sedan. He had been about to make his move when he saw the false Batman leap for the banner. Now he swung down into the square and landed between the wrecked car and the black-and-gray clad figure. He squinted through the flickering light and the spray of water, then trotted over toward the winded-looking caped figure. "Hey!"

Mana looked around and saw the young man in the green and red costume heading her way. She wobbled to her feet and turned to run.

"Wait!" Robin lunged forward, his outstretched hand seized the back of the newcomer's cowl. The black fabric ripped under his fingers and a shock off medium-length blond hair tumbled out. "Hey!" Robin halted, stunned, as Mana pulled free and raced out of the square. "A _girl_?" he said.

"Woman, if you don't mind!" the fleeing figure retorted over her shoulder.

On the sidelines, Vivian Wong snatched a video camera from a member of her crew and lifted it to her eye. She aimed it carefully at the fleeing Mana and began to film, a smile of delight on her lips.

Camouflaged by the fountaining water and the chaotic light show, two figures had exited the wrecked sedan. The driver was barely half the size of the mountainous man who carried the machine gun. Both were wearing colorful ski masks pulled down over their faces. The smaller thug pointed at the running figure in black and gray. "Get 'er!" came the command in a high, piping voice. The giant swung around and fired a hail of bullets at Mana. The startled gymnast did a quick back flip, narrowly avoiding the gunfire. The huge man lowered his weapon in surprise.

"Again!" the diminutive driver yelled. Her companion lifted the machine gun just as a boomerang object shaped like a batwing came whirling out of nowhere to knock it out of his fist. He turned to see another costumed figure charging toward him, a second batarang upraised in the green-gloved hand.

"Back off!" Robin announced. "The lady's with me."

The hoodlums turned to stare at each other, then the giant stooped and gathered his small confederate into his arms. He lumbered off in the opposite direction, covering the distance with surprising swiftness for one so large. Robin hesitated for a second, then sprinted back over to the black-and-gray-costumed stranger. She was standing at the corner of the building hands on her thighs and head bent as she caught her breath.

"Are you _crazy_?" he young man exclaimed as he reached her side. "What are you trying to do? You're lucky you didn't get killed!"

"What do I need a union card to do back flips in this town?" Mana looked up to see the giant hoodlum escaping into the distance with his small burden. "Come on!" she shouted. "They're getting away!" She took off in pursuit.

Robin stared at her perplexed. "This is nuts," he declared. Then he turned and ran after her.

The big man headed toward the alley with Mana on his heels. Without slowing her pursuit, she reached out and grabbed a lid down from a nearby garbage can. She took aim and hurled the lid down the alley like an oversized Frisbee. The metal disk struck the man just below the knees, and he went down like a felled redwood, his small passenger leaped to safety seconds before she would have been crushed by his bulk. The giant lay in the refuse, the wind knocked out of him. His accomplice hovered at his side for a few seconds, the raced off.

Mana reached the big man just as he was rolling ponderously over onto his back. Squatting down she yanked the ski mask from his face. The fall had left a fresh bruise on one cheek. Mana was memorizing his blunt features when the giant hoodlum lifted one of his legs, and knocked her violently aside. She gave a cry of surprise as she landed with a crash and clattered amid a cluster o garbage cans. The giant climbed to his feet and lumbered away into the darkness.

Mana found herself in a pile of garbage and debris. "Yuck." Brushing trash from her arms and legs, she rose shakily and started to walk back in the direction of the square. The annoying young man in red and green was nowhere in sight. She paused uncertainly as police sirens began to sound in the distance. Reaching a quick decision, she turned and retraced her steps into the shadows of the alley.

~*(KC)*~

On the far side of the police headquarters, the smaller of the two hoods darted around a corner and spied an empty auto trailer rumbling down the street. She raced toward it, leaping onto the end of the trailer bed at the last moment. She flattened out on the heaving surface and held on for dear life as the truck drove on.

Robin had decided to circle the building and ambush the fugitives. He dashed around the opposite corner a few moments and came to a halt. He scanned the empty street, turned, and ran back the way he had come. The alley was also deserted.

"Great. I lose the crooks _and _the girl." Blowing out his cheeks in exasperation, he kneeled to retrieve the fallen garbage can lid and replaced it on an open container. He searched the nearest rooftop for a likely protrusion and brought out his grappling gun. He fired the gun, and a grapple with a thin line attached to it wrapped itself around a sturdy-looking air vent. "They must've had a membership drive while I was away," Robin muttered to himself as he made a final survey of the alley, "'cause I sure don't remember a 'Batgirl' in our little club…" He pressed a button and the line grew taunt.

* * *

Author's Note: Yay! Remember people comments are what keep me going (that and Yugi, but that's not important) so please review and tell me what you think. The more reviews the faster the next chappie will be up :D

Also... this is the LONGEST chapter I have EVER written it's over 4,000 words O.o

Cazuuki


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews I REEAAAALLLY appreciate it. I also thought that I would post a list of the main cast and what Yu-Gi-Oh character's playing them (to make things more clear).

Bruce Wayne/Batman - Seto Kaiba

Dick Grayson/Robin - Yugi Mutou

Alfred Pennyworth - Roland

Harvey Dent/Two-Face - Ryou/Yami Bakura

Harvey's Fiancé - Serenity Wheeler

Commissioner Gordon - Mahado (Dark Magician)

Deputy Commissioner - Yami Yugi

Commissioner's Daughter/Batgirl - Mana (Dark Magician Girl)

Rupert Thorne - Dartz

Thorne's Right-hand Girl - Mai Valentine

Lanky 1 - Valon

If I think of anymore or if you think of someone else you're not sure about comment and I'll add them to the list next chapter.

* * *

All Domino is talking about the mysterious Batgirl who foiled an assassination attempt against acting commissioner Yami Mason to-"

Vivian Wong froze in mid-syllable as Yugi Mutou hit the Pause button on the VCR remote. On the screen behind the newscaster, a blond young woman in a black and gray costume hung suspended above the pavement in front of the police headquarters. Yugi hit the rewind button, frowning thoughtfully as the scene reversed itself through the moment when the blue sedan had careened into view.

"It appears that you and Master Seto may have some competition in the crime-fighting business." Roland entered the room with a tray of cookies and lemonade.

"Yeah, right." Yugi pressed Play and the action began again. "And if I find out who this meddler is, I'll - hey!" He broke off, leaning forward in fascination. "Look at that!"

On the big screen, the top of Yami Mason's head could be seen disappearing behind the podium as the blue car began to fishtail toward the speaker's platform. Yugi hit Rewind, then started the scene again, this time in slow motion.

"Most interesting." Roland set the tray on an end table and narrowed his eyes at the screen. "Mr. Yami appears to have ducked_ before_ it was possible for him to have seen the gun."

"Right…" Yugi nodded slowly as he reached for a cookie. "And why would he do that - unless he was _expecting_ the attack…?"

~*(K.C.)*~

Detective Taylor shook his head in disgust at the headline blaring across the top of the afternoon newspaper. Bold letters demanded WHO IS BATGIRL? above a picture of the mysterious woman, her blond hair clearly visible beneath the ripped cowl. Officer Renee Montoya stood behind him, reading the accompanying article with a small grin.

"Jeez - first we got Catwoman, now 'Batgirl,'" Tristan muttered. He crumpled the offending newspaper between his palms and dropped it into the wire mesh wastebasket at this feet. "What's next - Weasel Lady?"

"Hey!" Montoya knelt and retrieved the paper from the wastebasket. "Some of us aren't finished." Smoothing it out, she carried the newspaper to her desk, the grin returning to her face as she resumed her reading.

In a nearby room, Mana Gordon sat at a scarred oak table and poured over a wide notebook filled with sheets of photographs. She turned the page and peered closely at one of the mug shots. "Aha!" she said triumphantly. A name was printed beneath the photo of a tall man with shaggy blond hair and a curiously childlike expression: Joey "Slug" Wheeler.

"Gotcha," Mana said, as she closed the book on Mr. Wheeler.

~*(K.C.)*~

The drinks were watered down and the felt on the pool table had several jagged rips. Rats from the waterfront were too often found making their nests in the corners. There was no widescreen television, and the ancient jukebox had a selection limited to fifteen country and western tunes from as many years ago. Yet none of these factors seemed to have much effect on the brisk business done by the ramshackle drinking establishment known as the Stacked Deck. Its faithful patrons consisted largely of individuals living on the wrong side of the law, and they came to the bar primarily to rub elbows with their own kind and to make new contacts among Domino City's underworld.

Matches Malone leaned against a wall with a brown glass bottle in his hand, his blue eyes on a pair of thugs who were attempting to shoot pool on the warped table. A tall man with one arm shot him a suspicious glance as he shambled by. Matches rolled the kitchen math to the far side of his lips and took a hefty swig from the bottle, belching convincingly and wiping his mouth on his ragged sleeve. To all outward appearance, his attention was riveted on the unexciting game of billiards.

Actually, his senses strained toward the old-fashioned wooden phone booth that stood on the other side of the dark room. When the small sticklike figure he had been monitoring for the last half hour finally left her perch on the barstool and darted into the booth, Matches reached his hand up casually to the back of his head and massaged his neck. Faint words came into his ear from the quarter-sized microphone he held cupped in his palm.

"Yeah, chief - just like Batman, only a girl," said the thin, piping voice. "She almost screwed up everything. Me and Slug hadda separate, but he knows ta meet up with me tonight at the hideout. Say what-?" The small, birdlike head poked out of the booth and scanned the barroom. Satisfied that no one was nearby, it disappeared again. "Naw, don't worry, chief. No way anybody could hear me. Right, I'm takin' off now…"

A few seconds later, the little woman left the phone booth and headed out the front door. Matches stretched and yawned, slipping his palm into his pocket for a moment Then he turned and sauntered out the door.

~*(K.C.)*~

Evening was approaching as the taxi deposited Mana in front of a row of upscale condominiums in midtown Domino. She located a door that displayed 129 in elegant gold numerals and punched the doorbell. She stood tapping her foot impatiently till she heard footsteps. When the door opened, she darted inside.

"Yami, you know those guys who shot at you?" She ran the words together in her excitement. Yami Mason stepped back from the doorway in surprise as Mana pushed her way into the hall. "Well, I think I know who one of - oh!" She glanced past the deputy commissioner into the living room and broke off.

Yami raised his eyebrows. "Something wrong, Mana?"

"No-nothing." She cleared her throat. "I - didn't know you had company." She tried not to stare at the man who was rising from Yami's sofa.

"Oh, no problem." He held the door open as the other man came into the foyer. "As a matter of fact, my friend here was just leaving."

"Heh. Yeah, gotta run." The tall man settled a hat on his shaggy blond head and edged past Mana out the doorway. He had thin features and an ugly bruise on one cheek. "See ya at the, uh, business meeting," he said to Yami. He tipped his hat to Mana with a little boy's smile. "Evening, Miss."

"So…" Yami swung the door shut and turned to Mana. "Welcome to my humble abode. I've been hoping you'd get to see it eventually."

"Ah, I just came over to make sure that you were okay." Mana backed up toward the door, her eyes searching Yami's pleasant face. "I was - worried about you."

"I appreciate that. I really do." Yami's smile widened hopefully. "Drink?"

"Gee, no - I'm sorry." Mana groped behind her for the doorknob. She gave an apologetic smile. "I was just on my way to see Dad. But I'm sure I'll - catch you again soon." Her fingers closed on the knob and she yanked the door open. "Take care, Yami!" She ducked out into the evening.

"Yeah, sure, Mana. You, too." Yami closed the door after her with a puzzled frown.

~*(K.C.)*~

Matches had lingered by the door of the Stacked Deck long enough to watch the small woman hop into the driver's seat of a battered-looking dark blue sedan. As the engine growled to life, he darted across the wharf and slid into a nondescript black roadster. He waited for the blue sedan to pull away from the curb before turning the key. The blue car left the waterfront and led him deeper into one of the seedier neighborhoods of south Domino. They drove down the streets of gutted buildings, past fires that flickered like orange beacons in rusted trash cans.

The blue sedan slid to a stop at a garbage strewn curb, and the little woman jumped out. Moving furtively, she mounted the steps of an ancient-looking brownstone and disappeared inside the front door. Matches stood in the shadows of a half-collapsed wall and scanned the building. As he watched, a yellow light appeared in the single large window on the top floor. He slipped out from behind the wall and moved purposefully toward the brownstone.

The street was deserted. Matches reach into his baggy sweater and pulled out a small grappling gun. He took aim and fired the hook into the air. A second later it was clamped onto the ledge just below the lighted window.

Matches glanced right and left, then touched a stud on the side of the gun. Instantly he was lofted into the air as the thin cable rewound into the gun with a faint humming noise. He reached the ledge and pulled himself up, then moved slowly to stand in front of the dusty casement window. He grasped a small metal latch and nudged the window open.

There was a flash of white illumination and a crackle of electricity. Matches cried out, his face contorted in surprise and pain. He stiffened and fell forward through the unlatched window, landing with a heavy crash on the wooden floor.

Inside the room, Birdy removed her hand from a red plastic switch on a small panel labeled PROXIMITY ALARM. She gestured to the tall man standing behind her. "Better tie 'im up, Slug. I gotta phone call to make." She smiled at him thinly. "I think is gonna be real interested ta hear we got ourselves some uninvited company…"

~*(K.C.)*~

Mana sat cross-legged on the edge of her bed. A newspaper was at her side. A small sewing kit sat on the night table by the bed, and in front of the table was a chair with a black and gray costume slung over its back. Mana reached to lift a tattered stuffed bear from its place of honor on her pillow. It had been a gift from her father years ago, and he had been touched when little Mana decided to give it her mother's middle name. "Woobie" had been the closest thing she could come to pronouncing Ruby, and "Woobie" the bear had remained. Now she held it cradled in her arms and stared glumly into its dull glass eyes.

"What am I gonna do?" she whispered. "If Yami's involved in this somehow, there's _nobody_ I can trust." She glanced down at her picture beneath the headline on the afternoon paper and sighed.

"I thought I was helping but now everybody's so excited about 'Batgirl' they've forgotten all about Dad." Her gaze fell on the discarded costume, then remained there as her expression slowly changed.

"Wait a minute." She set the bear back on her pillow. "If I can't trust Yami, and Batman's not around to help…" Mana leaned forward and lifted the makeshift costume from its chair, then held it up with both hands, eyeing it critically. She turned back to the bear. "What do you think, Woobie? Could use a little more work, huh?" She reached for the sewing kit.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry for the late update (…again). My wireless internet has been all screwy due to Irene… at least when I asked my brother about it that's what he said. These are all on my laptop and with the sad death of my flash drive… I have no way to transfer them to the main computer. L

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this 2,000 or something worded chapter, and please review I use them as encouragement to re-type up the next chapter. I'd really appreciate the push J

~ Cazuuki


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews I REEAAAALLLY appreciate it. I also thought that I would post a list of the main cast and what Yu-Gi-Oh character's playing them (to make things more clear).

Bruce Wayne/Batman - Seto Kaiba

Dick Grayson/Robin - Yugi Mutou

Alfred Pennyworth - Roland

Harvey Dent/Two-Face - Ryou/Yami Bakura

Harvey's Fiancé - Serenity Wheeler

Commissioner Gordon - Mahado (Dark Magician)

Deputy Commissioner - Yami Yugi

Commissioner's Daughter/Batgirl - Mana (Dark Magician Girl)

Rupert Thorne - Dartz

Thorne's Right-hand Girl - Mai Valentine

Lanky #1 - Valon

Birdy - Tea Gardener

Slug - Joey Wheeler

Sorry I haven't updated in a while (boy, do I say that a lot lol) I have no excuse not to other than I haven't really felt up to it L I'll try to update bi-weekly from now on (the week I don't update this story I'll update my other story Vampyre Story)

* * *

"So, it appears we have a prowler." The voice had a strange, distorted quality, almost as if it were issuing from a machine rather than a human larynx. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" The pitch oscillated from high to low and back again. Was it young or old, male or female? Matches couldn't tell.

At first he thought he was dreaming the voice. He lay curled up on his right side on the floor, still half stunned. His arms and legs were securely half stunned. A massive shoe swam into his range of vision. Then a hand the size of a child's appeared close to his face and delivered a surprisingly forceful slap to his left cheek. He grunted when the second slap landed, and managed to jerk his head away before the third could connect.

"I imagine you've got his attention now." The voice had returned, wavering eerily from alto to bass. Matches shook his head, trying to clear his senses. He squinted around the small room. Table, lamp, chair. Windows set high on the wall. The window… He remembered pushing it open, his hand on the latch. Then there had been a powerful jolt and a bright flash and he had fallen. He couldn't quite remember the end of the fall, but it must have been hard, judging from the distance between the window ledge and the floor - not to mention the condition of his aching body. He turned his head at a flicker of movement.

Two individuals stood not far from him in the room. One was tall and broad-shouldered, the other small and birdlike. "I think you're right, chief," piped the little one. He recognized the voice, recalling the tiny woman in the phone booth at the bar. "Looks like he's comin' around."

"So, I'm going to ask you again," said the weird distorted voice, recalling the tiny woman in the phone booth at the bar. "What's your name and why were you trying to break in here?" Matches turned to look at the tall man. To his astonishment the other's lips were not moving. The blond man was staring at something. Matches followed his gaze, squinting at the tabletop. He saw a telephone with a small speaker attachment. "Slug," the disembodied voice continued, "maybe our guest needs a few slaps from you this time. I think Birdy's touch may've been too delicate to get my point across."

"Heh. Sure, chief." The man began to lumber across the room. Matches rolled groggily onto his side.. "Name's Malone," Seto croaked, "Matches Malone…" He raised an arm to shield his face. "Heard talk… 'bout a new mob… thought I could make some more dough…" His head slumped back wearily.

The room was silent for a few moments, then the speakerphone crackled. "Is that so? Well, you heard right. In fact, you could probably double your normal take on the jobs _we're _pulling - assuming, that is, I let you live long enough. Birdy - what's he look like?"

Matches lay back on the floor and tried to recover his strength as the little woman recited a detailed description of him into the speakerphone.

"And the name's Malone, huh?" the weird voice mused when she had finished. "Matches? Never heard him. And I don't recognize the description. But there's something about his voice that I don't like. Nothing I can put my finger on, but I trust my hunches… Tell you what, bring him along to our conference site. I'm going to be tied up for a while - you'll excuse the expression, Matches - but I'll send somebody down who can finish the interrogation for me in style. If he's satisfied our friend's on the level, we might just find a place for him in our little association. If not-"

The rest of the sentence was lost under a wash of static, then the connection was broken and the line went dead.

~*(K.C.)*~

Police Commissioner's office was dark except for a thin shaft of silvery moonlight from the window. A shadowy figure moved near the commissioner's desk, opening and closing drawers with a minimum of noise.

A slender hand wearing a black glove passed through the shaft of light as it reached into the top right-hand drawer. It withdrew first a tear gas canister and then a pair of compact binoculars. A search of the next lower drawer produced a tight roll of strong cable and a small, collapsible grappling hook.

"So the Dark Knight's .too busy to help me? Fine, in that case…" The figure stepped into the light for a moment. Though the dramatic black and gray costume was a careful duplicate of Batman's, the form beneath it was unmistakably that of a woman. She hefted the items with a smile and squared her shoulders. "Let's see what Batgirl can do!"

~*(K.C.)*~

The solitary figure stood on a smooth platform carved out of rock. He was bending over a table in a small circle of light. Stretched across the tabletop was a belt made of flexible golden metal. The figure carefully inserted various items into the small compartments built into the belt, his green-gloved hands passing in and out of the circle of light as he worked. A faint rustling sound could be heard occasionally from high above, as the other occupants of the Batcave went about their own preparations for the night.

A pulse of yellow light traveled down a large cylindrical structure several yards from where the young man stood. A curved door at the base of the cylinder slid open soundlessly and Roland emerged from the elevator. He was carrying a small parcel on a silver tray. Robin lifted the belt from the table as the older man approached.

"There's been no word?" Roland asked.

Robin shook his head. "Nothing. Not that that means there's anything to worry about. You know how Seto gets - he's probably just immersed in his role. Still, I think it's time I launched a little investigation of my own."

Roland pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Perhaps he's had a run-in with our new, Batgirl," he said.

"I hope not, Roland - for her sake, I mean," Robin amended hastily, blushing lightly. "Seto doesn't have what you'd call a wonderful history with women in costume."

"True, but he has you to set him straight." Roland gave Robin a small smile. "Have you decided upon a starting point for you investigation?" The butler ran his fingertip along the top of the table and inspected it with a frown.

"Yami Mason seems like the logical choice. Plus, that videotape clearly showed that he ducked _before_ those shots were fired." He wrapped the belt around his waist and buckled it. "If he knew he was going to be shot at, he might also know a lot more about what went on at that rally. It's starting to seem a little too convenient that he sent most of the force on a wild-goose chase to the other side of Domino just before the attack." He left the table and mounted a small stairway to a larger platform. On the platform stood a futuristic motorcycle that looked more like an abstract rendering of a black jungle cat than a vehicle. Its sleek lines leaned, like a hunting beast straining at the lead, toward the ramp that would carry it out of the Batcave. Roland watched as the young crime fighter mounted the Batcycle.

"Then perhaps he also knows more that he has let on about Commissioner Mahado's unfortunate situation," the butler offered. He handed the parcel to Robin, who stowed it in a small compartment concealed beneath the cycle's sheath of black metal.

I sure hope so, Roland." He started the Batcycle and revved its powerful engine. "If this lead fizzles I'm fresh out of ideas…" Roland took a step back as the cycle leaped from the platform and zoomed up the exit ramp.

~*(K.C.)*~

Masses of dark clouds obscured the full moon. Deputy Commissioner Yami Mason paced fitfully on the softly lit patio terrace outside his condo. Just inside the sliding glass doors sat a small plastic table that held a telephone and a cocktail glass.

The building next to Yami's condo was several stories taller. Its gently sloping roof afforded an excellent view of the patio terrace.

Robin swung onto the rooftop on a thin cable, landed in a silent crouch, and crept to a the shingled edge. As he watched Yami pacing on the patio, a flicker of dark movement caught Robin's eyes. He looked down. Someone was climbing quietly up toward him on the building's fire escape. The figure was dressed in dark colors, but Robin could make out no details of the shadowy garments. A cat burglar? He withdrew silently from the edge of the rooftop and crouched in the shadows.

Moments later, the slender figure reached the roof and hauled itself onto the slanting surface. The intruder righted itself and turned to scan Yami's condo. Robin crept forward, swiftly covering the distance between himself and the intruder.

He was reaching out his hand when the newcomer sensed his presence and spun around, one gray-clad leg rising in a vicious kick. Robin blocked the kick with a forearm, but still knocked back a step. He recovered quickly and retaliated with a sweep of his own leg. He dived on the stranger as the other fell onto the roof, and the two rolled across the rough shingles, a tangle of arms and legs. Both of them were trying their best to keep the noise of their struggle to a minimum. The mass of dark clouds drifted from in front of the moon at that moment and Robin's eyes widened in amazement. "_You_ again?"

He braced himself against the slope of the roof as the two untangled themselves. "Listen, under other circumstances this could be fun, but I've got a job to do."

"Don't flatter yourself." Batgirl rose to her feet, ignoring his outstretched hand. She straightened her cape and glanced back at the condo.

"Well, I don't have time to baby-sit amateurs, okay?" Robin reached out and tapped the young woman's shoulder. "Okay?" he repeated.

Batgirl snorted without taking her eyes off Yami. "Look," she said over her shoulder, "I may not have a diploma from the Famous Costumed Crime Fighters Correspondence School or anything, but I can do just fine on my own, thank you." She crouched down to continue her surveillance as Robin stepped alongside her.

"What're you doing here, anyways?" he asked.

"Same as you, I imagine," she said. "Looks like we both have reason to suspect Yami of -"

Across the gap the telephone in Yami's living room began to ring. The deputy commissioner slid open the glass doors and stepped inside.

Robin drew a small device from his utility belt and aimed it carefully at the opening. He pulled the trigger and a bat-shaped transceiver arced through the air, landing on the terrace floor centimeters from the edge of the door. The young man fitted a small earpiece to his ear and narrowed his eyes in concentration.

"You want to meet?" The earpiece gave Yami's voice a slightly tinny quality. He sounded surprised. "Okay, sure. But where?"

On the rooftop, Batgirl leaned her head close to Robins, straining without success to hear the voice through the tiny receiver. "What's he saying?" she whispered.

"Shhh!" Robin leaned away from her, shooing her away with one hand.

Batgirl glared at her companion. Then she pulled a pair of compact binoculars from her own belt and trained them on the terrace. As she adjusted the focus, Yami was turning to a pad mounted on the wall above the phone table. He pried a pencil from its slot under the pad and began jotting down letters, nodding as he wrote. Mana squinted through the binoculars, her lips moving as she made out the words: S. Domino subway - old river entr.

Robin sat a few feet away from her, his eyes closed and his head tucked down in concentration. "Right," he heard Yami say. "South Domino subway, the old river entrance. In one hour. I'm on my way."

Yami hung up the phone and tore the piece of paper from the notepad. He stuffed it inside his jacket as he reached to slide the glass door shut.

Robin removed the receiver from his ear and tucked it back into its compartment on his belt. Batgirl slid the binoculars out of sight as he rose from the rooftop and turned to her.

"Well, show's over," he said. "You can run along home now." He started to move toward the opposite edge of the roof.

Batgirl nodded meekly and headed for the fire escape. "Okay," she said.

At the sound of her voice, Robin stopped short and turned back. "Okay?" he repeated skeptically. "Just like that?"

Batgirl shrugged as she lowered herself to the topmost rung of the fire escape. "You're the professional," she said in a tone of resignation. "If you won't let me help you, there's not much I can do about it, is there?"

"Oh." Robin studied the young woman with a small frown. "Good. I guess you've got some sense after all." He turned and walked to the far edge of the roof. Batgirl heard a whipping sound as he fired his cable gun. Then he was gone.

She shook her head with amusement. "Nice guy," she murmured. "But if he bought that story, he's definitely a few bats shy of a belfry."

~*(K.C.)*~

Five minutes later, she was using the grappling took filched from her father's desk and a conveniently situated flagpole to catch the crosstown bus. Her landing on the roof of the broad vehicle left something to be desired. Details, she thought to herself as she sprawled on the grimy metal surface. She could work on style later - results were more important at the moment. Batgirl settled down comfortably and gazed up at the cloud-framed moon. At least it was a better view than she'd ever gotten from _inside_ one of these things!

Two blocks to the east, the Batcycle sped on a parallel course through the maze of city streets.

* * *

Again sorry for not posting anything in a while. Have lots of family problems and stuff going on, which has dampened my desire to upload… that and lack of comments L Remember comments stoke my writing flame… so the more comments the more likely I'll remember to post bi-weekly.

BTW, I really do appreciate all of my readers and am highly grateful that you continue to read my stuff. I love you guys

~ Cazuuki


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews I REEAAAALLLY appreciate it. I also thought that I would post a list of the main cast and what Yu-Gi-Oh character's playing them (to make things more clear).

Bruce Wayne/Batman - Seto Kaiba

Dick Grayson/Robin - Yugi Mutou

Alfred Pennyworth - Roland

Harvey Dent/Two-Face - Ryou/Yami Bakura

Harvey's Fiancé - Serenity Wheeler

Commissioner Gordon - Mahado (Dark Magician)

Deputy Commissioner - Yami Yugi

Commissioner's Daughter/Batgirl - Mana (Dark Magician Girl)

Rupert Thorne - Dartz

Thorne's Right-hand Girl - Mai Valentine

Lanky #1 - Valon

Birdy - Tea Gardener

Slug - Joey Wheeler

Sorry I once again failed to keep my promise about updating… L but in my defense I've been uber busy. I have a possible job opportunity to illustrate a children's book, I'm preparing a cosplay for a convention this summer, and I have four or five requests I have to work on. This is all dealing with my internet life, and isn't including personal problems at home…. Ugh, I'm so busy… again, I am SOOOOO sorry.

~*(K.C.)*~

The south Domino subway station was one of many abandoned buildings located on the banks of Domino River. Like its crumbling neighbors, it was slowly sinking into decay. They river itself had long since dwindled into little more than a storm drain for snow runoff.

The tall man known as Slug slouched nonchalantly at the station's boarded-up entrance, his hand clasped lovingly around the revolver concealed in the pocket of his trench coat. A cool wind was rising, bringing unpleasant odors from the river. Slug lifted his collar about his neck and yawned, watching the clouds race beneath the moon.

Something made a sound like a pebble rolling on concrete. Slug eased the gun from his pocket and stalked out of the doorway. A green-gloved hand shot out of the shadows just outside the entranceway and clamped around Slug's mouth. The blonde man gave a muffled cry and turned to shake off the small creature that was climbing up his back. Then Robin's other hand found the pressure point it was searching for, and the tall thug went down like a felled ox.

The young crime fighter dragged the unconscious blonde into a patch of bushes festooned with thorns and old newspapers. Two minutes later, Robin was prying the station door carefully back from its broken hinges. He glanced around cautiously and ducked into the station.

Half a block away, an elevated train roared by on its way to better surroundings. As it passed above the abandoned subway station, Batgirl used her grapple to swing away from the train's roof. She did a midair somersault and landed expertly a few yards from the station entrance.

She heard a series of muffled exclamations as she approached the entranceway. Following the noises behind a stand of skeletal bushes, she found herself standing in wide-eyed surprise above the figure of a captive hoodlum. After assuring herself that Slug was securely bound and gagged, she bent over and studied the sharp-featured face in the moonlight.

"Guess, the party's started without me, huh, friend?" She patted the tall man on the side of his face and moved on. Slug stared after her.

Batgirl entered the subway station. Once an elegant nexus for travel throughout prosperous south Domino, the building was now dark and in disrepair, a mirror of the surrounding neighborhood. A few dangling electric bulbs provided dim yellow light. Batgirl made her way to the top of a gutted escalator. The side rails were intact but the stair mechanism was gone, and where it had been was now a gaping chasm crisscrossed with broken iron struts and a tangle of dangling wires. She stood still at the top of the ruined device, her head tilted to one side, listening. Low voices issued from deeper inside the station. Batgirl studied the gutted stairway, then hopped lithely onto the escalator railing and leaped soundlessly to the floor at the bottom.

She moved out toward the tracks, then ducked back at the sight of a small group of people.

She moved stealthily through the station until she was within earshot of the gathering. She crouched behind a cracked statue jutting out from the tile wall and watched.

It was shadowed tableau, eerily lit by the faint yellow light.

Deputy Commissioner Yami Mason stood facing a tall, lean blonde man whose hands were tied behind him. The man blinked uncertainly at Yami, seemingly in a daze. A very small woman stood at Yami's side. Mana blinked. The little woman appeared to be holding an expensive portable phone with its antenna extended. In the background a pair of hoodlums - one a very pale, rail-thin woman, and the other obese, almost globular, dark-skinned man - stood next to massive pillars holding flashlights trained on the dazed captive. Machine guns leaned against the columns by their feet. Twenty yards down the tracks, an old conductor's car rested on the rails like an abandoned beast of burden.

There was a crackle of noise and the little woman jumped. She looked down at the phone with a respect that bordered on reverence and lifted the receiver to her ear.

"Chief, izzat you?" she asked. She flinched at the reply, which Batgirl could hear only as an inarticulate buzz, and passed the device gingerly to Yami. "Chief wants at talk wit' ya."

The deputy commissioner hefted the phone. "Yami." He listened for a few seconds, nodding. "Yeah, he's right here. No, I'm not sure I've never seen him around the department. I'd remember that face."

Batgirl scanned the area until something else caught her eye. Puzzled, she leaned out to her left for a better look. She began to smile.

"Who is he?" Yami was asking into the phone. "Not, I suppose, that anybody's going to care in a few minutes…"

The emaciated lookout chuckled at the comment. Suddenly a hand reached around from behind the pillar and covered her thin-lipped mouth. Eyes bulging in surprise, the woman was yanked quickly out of sight.

Batgirl's grin widened. She began to circle quietly to her right.

Yami had a disgusted look on his face. "So that's _it_?" he complained. "You drag me all the way here to the pits of south Domino just to ID some two-bit hood you're planning on knocking off anyway?" The phone buzzed and crackled and Yami nodded, his expression bored. "Right, chief, right. No, I haven't forgotten who got me set up as Mahado's assistant."

Batgirl pricked up her ears at the mention of the commissioner. She was close enough that she could make out some of the high-volume retort from the phone's earpiece. Yami gulped at the fury of the reply, his composure dented. "Okay, okay! Take it easy," he said. "I was out of line. I owe you big-time." He loosened his tie nervously.

Matches Malone had been watching the deputy commissioner. Now his eyes narrowed, moving past Yami to a point slightly behind him. He gave a single small nod.

Across the room, Robin returned the nod from behind the pillar. He held up a tiny black marble, then withdrew silently behind the column.

Unseen behind the costumed youth, Batgirl crept closer. She glanced down at the tiny thin woman, now gagged and trussed as securely as her co-worker outside in the bushes.

Words crackled from the phone, distorted by the static: "Listen, Yami, since our little stunt at the rally, I've got this city thinking you're the best thing since Batman." There was a buzzing laugh. "Once Mahado's out of the picture, you'll be a shoo-in to take his place. In fact, they could be calling you 'commissioner' by tomorrow."

Yami was surprised. "Tomorrow?"

Batgirl stood listening silently a few feet behind Robin, who was still unaware of her presence.

"I'm stepping up my timetable," crackled the voice on the phone. "Too many people nosing around. Our guest here, that 'Batgirl' kid - I'm not taking any chances. My gang'll bust the old guy out of jail tonight, and then we'll dump him off the Bayshore Wharf."

Batgirl listened in horror. Behind her, the bound woman quietly drew back her matchstick legs. The unexpected kick caught Batgirl's ankles from behind. She lurched forward, crashing into Robin. The black marble flew out of his hand and hit the floor. It rolled several yards and came to a stop against Yami's expensive shod foot.

The deputy commissioner stared down at the tiny orb and jumped back instinctively. A greenish gas began to spray from the marble as Yami retreated.

"We've got company!" he yelled to Birdy and the remaining lookout. He pointed into the shadows where Robin and Batgirl struggled to disengage themselves. "Over there!"

"Robin - look out!" Matches cried out in concern. He took a step to the side and lashed out with his legs, kick boxer style, as the two hoodlums turned to the shadows. The rotund lookout lost his balance and bumped heavily into Birdy, who caromed off a pillar and sprawled onto the floor. Yami's jaw fell open as Matches dived to the edge of the platform and rolled over the side, dropping out of sight onto the tracks below.

Birdy struggled to her feet. Whipping a small revolver out of her jacket, she began firing into the shadows where Batgirl and Robin crouched. Robin hurled Batgirl to the floor behind the pillar, interposing his body between her and the madly firing woman. Several yards down the platform, Yami turned, staring at the subway rails where the blond man had disappeared. "_Robin_?" he repeated incredulously. "That means you mush be-" He stopped to grab a machine gun from one of the fallen hoods and opened fire onto the tracks.

Below, Matches lay pressed tightly against the concrete wall under the overhanging lip of the platform, the hail of bullets ricocheting inches from his body.

Up on the platform, Birdy tossed aside her spent revolver and picked up the other machine gun, continuing to fire at the pillar where Batgirl and Robin were hiding. White puffs of plaster burst from the column as the machine-gun fire peppered it.

"We don't have time for this!" With an expression of exasperation, Robin got to his hands and knees and started crawling toward his left, pulling Batgirl with him.

Birdy stopped firing and ran to Yami's side. The deputy commissioner's face was contorted into a mask of fear and hatred. Birdy yanked at his sleeve. "Come _on_," she urged. "Plum's untyin' Sticks. Let's go!"

After a moments hesitation, Yami hurled the machine gun at the tracks, then turned and loped after Birdy. The round man had squeezed his bulk behind the pillar and freed his bound companion. The thin woman got stiffly to her feet and the two took off in hot pursuit of Birdy and Yami.

Muffled cries for help greeted the four criminals as they staggered out of the station. Birdy pulled the portable phone from its hoster at her tiny waist and chattered into it while the others released Slug.

She pointed to the abandoned subway station, a grim expression on her narrow face. "Chief says ta blow it!" she ordered. "Plum?"

From somewhere on his person, the round man produced a dull green object that looked like a high-tech lime and raised his eyebrows at Birdy as the group backed away from the doomed building. At her nod, he pulled the pin and tossed the grenade in a low arc at the station entrance. The explosion collapsed the opening, sealing it with a layer of dusty rubble.

~*(K.C.)*~

Robin and Batgirl were making their way to the edge of the platform when the explosion shook the building. Debris poured down the gutted escalator. Robin turned to the young woman.

"Just whose side are you on?" he demanded irritably.

"You're right. You're entirely right." Batgirl looked chagrined. "If I hadn't let her take me by surprise-"

"Robin!" The husky voice came from the subway tracks.

The two raced to the edge of the platform. Matches Malone was in the process of freeing himself with Houdini-like skill from the ropes that still bound him. As he climbed to his feet, Robin extended a hand to pull him up onto the platform.

The tall blond man eyed Batgirl with disapproval as he massaged his wrists. "I see you brought a date," he practically growled at his partner.

"Me? I thought she was with you." Robin looked back at the young woman's black and gray costume. "She's got your taste in clothes. Speaking of which…" He reached behind his back and unhooked from his utility belt the small package Roland had given him earlier. "Here."

Matches took the parcel and split the seal. A compact uniform burst out, revealing gray fabric and a black-and-yellow insignia.

Batgirl's eyes widened. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "Am I glad to see _you_!"

Matches ripped open his tattered shirt, then paused and glanced at Batgirl, who was staring at him eagerly. "Do you mind?"

"Oh!" She blushed and turned her back as the man stripped off his false mustache and began to remove his outer garments. "Sorry…"

~*(K.C.)*~

Outside the subway station, Yami Mason was having an argument with the telephone. He paced nervously back and forth on the filthy tarmac, while Birdy cradled "the chief" in her arms.

"Well, this is just _great_," Yami said. "Now Batman and Robin know what's going on!"

"The bat chick, too," Slug put in. "Heh, she looks a lot better in tights than Batman, don't she?" Birdy reached out and cuffed him on the leg.

"Shut up, Slug," growled the voice of the chief. The phone buzzed with static. "Look, Yami, the explosion probably took care of them. But just in case… you should be able to find a big wheel-like device to your left, over by the sluiceway."

Yami turned and peered toward the river. "Yeah, I see it."

"Good. That's a drainage wheel. It diverts storm overflow down into the old subway system. Tell Slug to give the wheel a couple of good turns." The phone crackled with laugher. "Two bats and a bird. We'll flush those pests right down the drain…"

~*(K.C.)*~

"Can I look now?" When Batgirl turned around, the Dark Knight was looming over her like a vengeful spirit. "Oh - hi," she said, taking a nervous step backward.

"I don't know who you are or why you're doing this," the masked man began. The cold, deep-voiced whisper was completely different from the bleary tone he had employed as Matches Malone. "But let's get one thing straight. It takes a lot more than a costume and an attitude to do this kind of work."

Batgirl retreated another involuntary step. Then she shrugged off the feeling that she was getting a lecture for staying out past curfew and decided to stand her ground. "Look, I've got a reason for being here, so-"

Batman leaned toward her, his cape flaring like dark wings at his back. "You've already fouled up once," he said. "It almost cost us our lives. Stay out of our way so it doesn't happen again."

Robin was down on the tracks near the old, abandoned conductor's car, searching the wall for a way out of the tunnel. He grinned stupidly as Batman joined him. "Quite the handful, isn't she?" he said with a glance up at the platform. Batgirl stood there with her arms crossed defiantly. Robin shook his head. "I don't know. I spend a few short months out of the country and you go auditioning replacements. I'll have to watch myself in the future."

Batman ignored the comment, bending to inspect the rusted machinery.

"What they said - about the commissioner." Batgirl leaned over the platform's edge. She was trying to keep the concern from her voice. "Will they really…?"

"Yami's eager for that promotion," Batman said grimly. He straightened up and frowned down the dark tunnel. "Whoever's pulling the strings for him sounded pretty serious, as well. They've come this far. I doubt they'll stop at murder."

Robin kicked a discarded battle down the tracks in frustration. "And here we sit, with no way to-" A rumbling sound began to swell in the distance. It sounded like a herd of stampeding horses. Robin blinked in surprise. "Is that a _train_?"

The trio turned and stared down the tunnel as a man-high wall of water rushed around the bend and began to bear down on them. Batman leaped onto the platform while Batgirl backed away from the edge. Robin was standing on the far side of the tracks. Before he could reach the ledge, the wall of water slammed into him. He tottered against the force of it, then lost his balance. He gave a cry of alarm as the water pulled him away from the platform. Just then a lasso whirled through the air and caught him about the wrist. Batgirl dug in her heels and leaned against the rope, straining as she used all of her strength to hold him against the current. "Hold… on…"

Batman came up behind her. He circled his arms around hers and the two pulled together. Finally Robin reached the edge of the platform. With Batman holding the rope, Batgirl reached out and hoisted him up with a grunt of exertion. They both lost their balance, tumbling side by side on the platform. Panting for breath, Robin managed a weak smile of gratitude. "Not bad," he gasped. "Maybe there's hope for you, after all."

The water was rising steadily as it thundered through the tunnel. The overflow began to spill onto the platform. Moments later it was up to their knees.

Batman scanned the vaulted ceiling. Faded frescoes were visible in the dimness, as was a yard-long crack in the neglected masonry. He extracted the grappling gun from his utility belt.

Robin and Batgirl watched as the Dark Knight removed a small wad of plastic explosive from his utility belt and affixed it to the prongs of the grapple.

The water had climbed to Batgirl's waist. She suddenly slipped and nearly went under. Robin hauled her back to her feet. "We have to hurry!" he urged his partner.

Batman aimed the gun up into the dimness and fired. The grapple streaked upward and struck the ceiling in the precise center of the crack. There was a muffled roar as the explosive material detonated on impact. The three below covered their heads as masonry cascaded down. The frayed end of the grapple line dropped back into the water at their side.

Batgirl looked up. A few bright stars were visible through the small hold in the ceiling. "Great," she said, holding up the end of the line. "Only how do we get to it?"

Robin grinned and hefted another grappling gun above the water. "Always carry a spare."

It was his turn to aim and fire upward. The grapple shot through the jagged hole and hooked onto an upraised slab of pavement on the street above.

"You first," Batman told the young woman. Water swirling about his chest, he took the grappling gun from Robin and handed it to Batgirl. "Press here to send it back down to us."

Batgirl took the gun and gripped it tightly.

"Wait!" Robin produced several small, bat-shaped boomerang-like objects from his belt. He gave the batarangs to Batgirl. "Just in case you run into trouble up there."

"Thanks." The two locked gazes for a moment when Batgirl activated the grappling reel and was hauled up toward the stars.

She squeezed through the narrow opening at the top. Turning swiftly back to the gap, she held the grapple over the hole and pressed the stud on the gun's barrel. The line started unreeling with a soft humming sound, lowering the gun back down into the tunnel.

Batman was reaching for the grappling gun when part of the tunnel wall collapsed inward under the water pressure from outside. A huge wave roared forward, crashing over the Dark Knight and Robin.

Above, Batgirl watched in horror as the two were carried away by the coursing wave.

"_No_!" She pulled frantically on the line. The ragged end of the cable came out of the hole without the gun. She stared at the empty line in shock.

~*(K.C.)*~

Mahado Gordon sat on the edge of his cot, picking disinterestedly at his dinner while Detective Tristan Taylor stood outside the small cell and attacked his third piece of pizza. The pepperoni-laden slice was so large he had to fold it in half to fit it into his mouth. Mahado glanced glumly from the tray in his lap to the other man.

"If I ever get reinstated, Tristan, remind me to do something about the quality of the food in here, will you?" he asked.

"Relax, Commish." Mouth already full, Tristan took another huge bite of the steaming wedge. Strings of cheese stretched from the pizza to his mouth. "We got the judge to reconsider bail, didn't we?" He swallowed with effort and gazed thoughtfully at the commissioner's plate. "Hey, you gonna eat that pickle?"

Mahado lifted the tray toward the other man when the cell was rocked by a thunderous explosion. Tristan was thrown across the corridor to the far wall. He took a halting step forward to see Mahado lying on the concrete floor of his cell. Smoke billowed in the tiny room and the back wall of the cell was no longer there.

"Commissioner?" Tristan shouted. Mahado groaned and tried to push himself to his knees. Then three figures wearing ski masks emerged from the smoky chaos where the cell wall had been and pulled the commissioner to his feet.

"Huh?" Mahado shook his head dazedly and looked around. "What in…?"

"C'mon, Commissioner!" one of the masked men said loudly. He was a huge man with fists the size of hams. "Heh. Rupert Dartz don't desert his friends."

As Tristan watched in astonishment, the trio surrounded Mahado and dragged him out through the smoking hole. The burly detective lunged at the bars and shook them in frustration.

"Get some keys up here!" he yelled down the corridor. He turned back to the now-empty cell and ground his teeth in baffled rage. "Never a blasted cop when you need one…" he muttered, reaching inside his trench coat for a toothpick

~*(K.C.)*~

Author's Note: Again I apologize for yet another late update (heh, that rhymed) but I've been super busy… I know its not a great excuse buy hey work with what you've got, right?

On another note, they whole time I was typing up (and writing) the convo between Batgirl, Batman, and Robin (a.k.a. Mana, Seto, and Yugi). I couldn't help but that Yugi would be thinking the whole time: "Stupid Batgirl… you're such a cock block! If you weren't here…. Ugh!" lol. Poor deprived Yugi :D

And I counted... there's about five chapters remaining... Yay!

Cazuuki


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